Sherlock, John, and the Doctor
by HelenaHermione
Summary: When Mycroft contacts Sherlock and John to investigate an alien known as the Doctor, it's the chance of a lifetime for them to discover strange new worlds, explore the past, and fall in love. As for the 9th Doctor meeting Rose, John, and Sherlock, he gets more than he bargained for. (Series/Season 1 for both shows. Johnlock, Doctor/Rose, surprises/canon change in store.)
1. The Blue Box

Story cover image: Police box, British public call telephone © by artbalitskiy/Fotolia

* * *

**Ten years ago…**

The blue box had crash-landed in the yard of his family estate. He approached the box cautiously, surrounded on either side by guards, and mentally noted the dimensions and identified the box as a police call box from the 1950s, although with the way it had crash-landed here like some sort of aircraft, he was willing to bet that it wasn't an ordinary police call box.

The blue box's door opened and he halted, along with his guards, aiming their guns at the box and the occupant inside. "Hello?" He called out in his best sympathetic voice. "Are you hurt? Can we get you some help?"

There was a pause as they waited for answer and then he heard a laugh, a sinister, cunning laugh that intrigued and thrilled him. "I'm fine, just fine. Never better, in fact. It's the best I've felt in years, except for…well, I can't help that for now."

"Stand down, gentlemen, just relax." He ordered, turning to his guards before he slowly approached the box's doorway. "My name is Jim. James Moriarty, in fact." He said as he peered through the box's opening and gasped. "What's yours?" He managed to say, stunned and excited by what he saw inside. This was going to provide him with a load of opportunities, he could already tell.

The man with the maniacal laugh peered out of the opening and studied him intently. "Well, Jim, my name is the Master and I can tell we are already going to be the best of friends."

"The best of friends, of course." James slowly nodded, eying the Master as well. "The 'You help me and I help you' type of friends?"

"Precisely." The Master nodded.

"I like the sound of that." James said before they laughed together and then coughed, feeling slightly awkward together in that moment.

"Guards," James snapped his fingers and the guards drew to attention. "Help the Master gather his box together and take it up to the manor. We're going to have a load of work to do to get this thing in working order again. I assume it is broken?" He asked the Master.

"Yes, unfortunately, the type of parts and technology that I need to patch this thing up don't exist yet or will never exist, depending." The Master sighed.

"Hmm, a curious thing." James said before he shrugged. "Well, can't be helped, I suppose. We shall have to make do and find the best replacements possible or make our own." James turned to the guard heading back to the manor and told him, "Have some scientists ready on standby as soon as possible. We may need some assistance."

"Is this your place?" The Master asked, staring up at the manor.

"It is mine, insofar as it belongs to my family." James said before he asked, "Is that your box?"

"This old ratty thing? Yes and no." The Master said, turning to James. "It is mine now. Your place, can it be mine as well?"

"We shall share it, just like we share this box, for as long as you like." James said. "Is that a deal?"

The Master hesitated, glancing back and forth between James and the guard standing off to the side before he said, "Deal."

"Perfect." James smiled. "Just perfect."

**Present day(ish)…**

"A Henriks department store just blew up, a few blocks away from Trafalgar Square." Anthea told Mycroft, typing on her phone. Mycroft frowned and looked up from the newspaper he was just reading, out of boredom, to ensure that the certified stories and facts were straight and on topic, and to smirk at how wrong they got it half the time. "Police and emergency services are already on their way there." She told him.

"Henriks?" Mycroft grimaced. "One of those urbane teen outfitters, I suppose, but it doesn't make any sense." He closed and folded up the newspaper. "Why would anyone want to blow up such a place, much less shop there, unless they really hated clothes?"

"A statement of some sort that London isn't secure?" Anthea remarked.

"Perhaps, though it is an oblique one, aside from location. Get me CCTV footage of the surrounding area, before and after." Mycroft said, standing up and walking over to the bank of monitors set up against one wall. One of his personnel obeyed his order, switching all of the monitors to the CCTV cameras in that general vicinity, and rewound the footage to an hour or two before the incident.

Anthea joined them to peruse and examine the footage as it played out at double speed. "Camera 442981, stop at the mark." Anthea called out and the personnel member did at the 30 minute mark before the explosion. "Look here, sir." She called to Mycroft.

He came over and, after a quick glance, said, "There is a gentleman in a leather jacket, jumper, and dark trousers running towards the department store. The terrorist?"

"Look to the shadows." Anthea told Mycroft before she told the personnel member, "Play it back a couple of minutes and then restart it at regular speed."

Mycroft watched and then his eyes widened before he smiled. "Good for you, Anthea, you've spotted a Doctor. The Doctor, I should say, though he does look a bit different from what we're used to. One of his latest incarnations, I imagine." Mycroft frowned to himself. "What is he doing here and why did he blow up a store? Keep playing the footage here, I want to know when he comes back to the TARDIS and if anyone is accompanying him." He told the personnel member.

"He usually does have some sort of companion with him, doesn't he?" Anthea asked.

"Yes, the ones we're used to usually do, however, this Doctor appears to be traveling alone. No one came out with him, did they?" Anthea shook her head and Mycroft continued, "Precisely my point. This Doctor is alone and different from all the rest. He could be dangerous and unpredictable to a certain degree, even with a companion to help him, but without one, he is worse than my brother."

Anthea grimaced and then asked, "Your brother does have a companion now, though, Dr. John Watson? How is that going?"

Mycroft nodded. "Yes, that's right, Dr. John Watson seems like a respectable, responsible, able-bodied man who is capable of keeping up with my brother and keeping him in check to a certain degree, though he can't always control or follow my brother's actions. They seem to be getting along together now, as best as they can considering my brother's temperament and character and John's condition. I give it a few more weeks before it comes crashing down."

"That's what you said last month." Anthea said. "You still owe me 30 pounds."

"I'll pay you later." Mycroft added, rolling his eyes before he paused. "Roll back the footage a couple of minutes." He told the personnel member.

The person complied, and then Mycroft and Anthea watched as a blond teenage girl, holding some sort of rubber or plastic arm, raced down the sidewalk and across the street from the direction of Henriks' department store, looking harried and nervous as she kept glancing about. She paused and looked back at the department store, towards its roof, just before it exploded. She then raced off, past the TARDIS without seeing it, though.

"She saw something." Mycroft said. "She was in the department store. And I bet you another 30 pounds that she met the Doctor. I need a name, facts, and details concerning this young woman and then I need her interviewed and followed for at least two more weeks to be certain."

"Why?" Anthea asked, turning to Mycroft. "What's your concern with her?"

"The Doctor might be concerned with her if he helped her and pushed her out of the store before it exploded." Mycroft said. "He might even be concerned enough to ask her to travel along with him. Now who can we trust-" Mycroft hesitated, glancing at Anthea before he sighed. "Get Sherlock on the phone already and get me all of the files on the Doctor that we've got. I need to update Sherlock on the situation here so that he can appraise and examine it to the best of his abilities. Try to get him interested in it." Mycroft muttered, shaking his head.

**An hour later…**

"Oh, isn't it terrible?" Mrs. Hudson said, shaking her head as she watched the department store burn on the television. "Right here in the heart of London! Who could have done such a thing?"

"I'm sure it'll be fine, Mrs. Hudson." John said, glancing at his landlady. It might have been a little odd that she came up here to share this experience with her tenants, but then again, she was a motherly type of person, who needed some comfort as well. "The department store was closed, after all, the staff had already left. Whoever blew it up did so with almost no casualties involved."

"There probably will be some missing or suspected personnel who might have blown up the store, or might have even been caught in there." Sherlock added from where he sulked in his armchair, watching the television with a blank expression. "You can't say there are absolutely no casualties at this rate."

"Sherlock, please don't upset Mrs. Hudson." Watson hissed at him before his phone rang. Curious, he picked it up and frowned. "Mycroft is calling me. Sherlock, what did you do with your phone?"

"I threw it in the trash as soon as I heard about this explosion." Sherlock said. "I knew he would try contacting me to—John, no!" Sherlock cried, but it was already too late as John had answered.

"Hello?" John said, Sherlock sulking even further as John listened. "Yes, he's here, and no, he doesn't want to speak to you at the moment."

"Tell him it's obviously a terrorist plot and that's his job, not mine." Sherlock said. "If he didn't want to deal with terrorists, then he shouldn't have gotten into politics in the first place."

"Sherlock, be nice." Mrs. Hudson hissed at him. "You should help him. He's your brother, after all, and it's for an important cause."

"I wish he weren't. He's my nemesis!" Sherlock said.

"He-" John frowned as he listened and then turned to Sherlock. "Mycroft says it's not a terrorist plot and it involves…an extraterrestrial alien called the Doctor."

"What?" Sherlock sat up, aghast. "What kind of idiot does he think I am?"

"Alien?" Mrs. Hudson gasped. "Oh my god, it's finally happened! There really are aliens!"

"He says to check your laptop, all of the information has been sent to you." John added. "And we're supposed to also check up on a Rose Tyler at the Powell Estate. She worked at Henriks. Is that it?" John asked Mycroft, listening to him for a minute more with wide eyes, and then nodded. "No problem. Okay then, good-bye." John hung up.

"What was that about?" Sherlock eyed John.

"Nothing." John shook his head, not wanting to tell Sherlock what his brother had just said. It was quite a nice compliment, though.

Sherlock sighed, glancing at the TV again and coverage on the Henriks explpsion. "There's nothing on here of any real value. It's probably one big joke, but I suppose I shall still check out what my brother just sent." Sherlock stood up and headed towards his bedroom, pausing to turn back to John. "Just don't volunteer my services to him again without my say-so, okay?"

"Okay, then, good night, Sherlock." John said, nodding.

"Good night, John." Sherlock said, closing the door.

Mrs. Hudson shook her head. "Aren't you two going to bed together?"

"We're not a couple!" John groaned to himself. He thought he heard a stifled laugh from the direction of Sherlock's room, but ignored it. "Good night, Mrs. Hudson." He added.

"Good night, John." Mrs. Hudson said, looking bemused and amused as she slowly extracted herself from the couch and left the flat.

A few minutes later, as John was still watching TV, bored and tired, but not yet exhausted enough to go to sleep himself, he heard several expletives followed by a couple of shouts coming from the direction of Sherlock's closed bedroom. John hesitated, wondering what was bothering him or exciting him so much before Sherlock's door opened. John turned about and stared in horror and fascination at the crazed expression on Sherlock's face.

"The alien is real." Sherlock panted. "The Doctor is real. Come check it out." He waved him over.

"Really?" John asked, leaping over the couch and racing over to see what Sherlock was talking about. Sherlock yammered about a mile a minute as John read the files and even saw some footage taken from organizations like UNIT and Torchwood over several decades. "Oh my god," John said at one piece of footage in particular, which examined the size and dimensions of a large blue box inside a UNIT lab and then went inside the box, revealing a large, alien-looking room totally different from its surroundings. "But that's completely absurd, impossible." John said, leaning in further as the camera went deeper and deeper into the 'TARDIS'. "Is that a swimming pool?" John asked at one point.

"I would like to meet this alien, this Doctor." Sherlock said, examining another file on Rose Tyler. "And she just might be the ticket to him." Sherlock smiled. "We're going to the Powell Estate, first thing in the morning."

"Count me in." John nodded. "I would like to take a look at this thing myself."


	2. Harmless

The alarm rang that morning, waking Rose, and she was briefly disconcerted enough to think that she should get up, get dressed, and ready for work. But then her mother shouted at her, reminding her that she didn't have a job anymore because it all burned down, thanks to that mysterious Doctor fellow and those plastic men, Rose mentally added. Rose silently thanked the Doctor for a moment in that she didn't have to work at Henriks' anymore, a snotty, ritzy, and too fabulous of a place (and too expensive for her) that she hadn't been able to stand and only worked at because it was one of the few decent jobs that she could get with her education and lack of experience.

But now she didn't have a job anymore, no way of earning a decent wage to help support herself and her mother, and she wasn't better off than she was before in terms of work experience to boost up her resume. She and her mother were facing a serious lack of funds right now and it wasn't likely that she would immediately find a job to help support them. Bare cupboards wasn't going to be as much of an issue as the fact that they would have to rely on others now, including Mickey and maybe one of her Mum's boyfriends, to help them out if they got into a tight spot, like if the washing machine broke and they couldn't afford a repairman.

She hated the thought of that. She often wished that she and her mum were independent and well-off enough that they could afford to take care of themselves without relying on others for help. She sighed to herself, lying in bed alone now with nothing to do, and wished the day would end right here with nothing to occupy her time, except for TV, reading, and boredom. But she got up, got dressed, and listened to her mum blabber on about getting a job at the butcher's and seeking compensation. It never ended.

There was a knock on the door and she frowned to herself, wondering who that could be as she got up and answered the door to two blokes, one a tall, lanky sort of fellow with dark, curly hair and the other a shorter, homely sort of fellow, maybe about her height or smaller, with blond, short hair. The short fellow had a laptop bag slung across his shoulders. "Hello, Miss. Rose Tyler?" The tall fellow said. "We're with Scotland Yard, and we wish to speak to you about the Doctor you met last night at Henriks' before it blew up. May we come in?" He smiled in a cold way.

Rose gaped at them, shocked. How did they know? Who was this Doctor person that Scotland Yard was looking for him? A criminal, probably, if he wasn't a terrorist. "I can't really say much about him." She said, nervous as she glanced down. "I only met him once last night. He sort of saved my life, or at least got me out of there before it exploded." She frowned. "It was weird. There were plastic mannequins, or people dressed up as plastic mannequins, and they were chasing after us."

"Plastic mannequins." The tall fellow slowly nodded and turned to the shorter fellow. "Wasn't there something in the UNIT files about plastic, the Automatons? Autons?" He corrected himself.

"Autons?" Rose incredulously repeated.

"I think so." The shorter man shrugged. "You know those files better than me."

"I don't know what this is all about, but he warned me that I shouldn't say much about him." Rose added. "He said it would mean death for anyone else."

"Of course. Miss. Tyler," The tall man inhaled, addressing her again, "We want to share with you some information regarding the Doctor, just in case you come across him again."

"Are you sure we should be doing this?" The shorter man hissed. "Mycroft will be very upset with us."

"Well, then he shouldn't have told us about this in the first place if he didn't want us to talk about it." The taller man hissed back.

"I think this is where the Secrets Act is supposed to come in here." The shorter man said.

"Shut up." The tall man muttered.

Rose blinked and said, "All right, come in." She didn't know what was going on here, she didn't exactly trust these guys either, but she waved them through into the flat, hoping to find out more about the mysterious stranger from last night.

"Excellent." The tall man said, entering with the shorter man following and shaking his head. What had she gotten herself into?

"Rose, who is that at the door?" Her mother called out.

"It's just some investigators with the inquiry." Rose told her as the tall fellow and the short fellow walked past her mum's bedroom. "They'll only be here ten minutes. Can you leave us alone for a bit?"

"It might be an hour." The tall fellow added before he moved on.

"An hour? All right then," Rose's mum huffed, annoyed at being driven out of her own home by two men and her daughter, and then she caught sight of the shorter fellow. "Hello, there." She said, straightening up a bit and tossing her hair back to show off her breasts. "I'm alone with a strange man in my bedroom. Anything can happen." She winked.

Before the short man could open his mouth, the tall man shouted, "No! Come along, John." The short man shrugged and walked on by as Rose's mum huffed and continued to get ready to leave the flat. Rose smirked behind her hand.

"Does she flirt with every strange man that walks into her flat?" The short man remarked as he, Rose, and the tall man entered the living room.

"Sometimes she does. So what's this all about, then?" Rose murmured, settled down on the sofa. "And can I get some names from you two since you happen to know mine?"

"I'm Sherlock Holmes and this is my friend, Dr. John Watson." The tall fellow introduced themselves as the short fellow waved. Rose waved back at him, feeling awkward. "John, get out the laptop and the Doctor's files." Sherlock told his friend (boyfriend? No.) "We must apprise Miss. Tyler, full disclosure, on what we're dealing with here." As Watson did that, Sherlock steepled his fingers and turned to Miss. Tyler. "This is very difficult to explain, but we shall try…"

About half an hour later, with Rose's mum already gone on some errands or to visit a boyfriend, Rose shook her head with everything that she had just read, heard, and seen about the Doctor. "No, I don't believe you." She said, facing Sherlock Holmes and Dr. John Watson. "This is all just fake, obviously. It can't be real. Aliens do not exist. The Doctor can't be alien."

"I was just as much a skeptic as you are not more than 24 hours ago," Sherlock Holmes said. "When there was very little scientific evidence for it as far as I knew of. But now that I have seen all of this information, which came from the highest civil authority in the land and from these respected, renowned agencies, even I believe."

"And it's very hard to get him to believe anything. Trust me, I know." John said.

Rose scoffed. "He would believe anything, I bet."

"It might sound outlandish, something only the feeble-minded would accept, but this level of scientific, government detail cannot be denied or fabricated from nothing." Sherlock said. "The Doctor is real, an alien Time Lord, and you have had contact with him. We are interested in finding out more about him and what he is doing here."

"Maybe he's dealing with the plastic Autons?" John asked and shrugged. "That's the only logical thing I can think of right now."

Rose scoffed and muttered, "Autons, what ridiculous nonsense."

"Excellent point, John, but there's got to be more to it than meets the eye." Sherlock frowned to himself. "I can't help but wonder where he has been for these past few years. He has been missing, absent, off of UNIT's and Torchwood's radar for a long time now. Even for a Time Lord like him, who can travel through space and time, for nine years or more the Doctor has not been seen in any form anywhere."

"Space and time?" Rose frowned to herself. It sound too good to be true.

"In any form?" John asked, frowning to himself as he reached over to the laptop. "I could have sworn there were some scattered reports indicating the Doctor might have popped up here and there-"

"Rumors, fiction, unsubstantiated reports, irrelevant details that have no bearing on any important events." Sherlock insisted. "The Doctor is a ghost at this point, a mere shadow of his former self. We're trying to draw him out of the shadows and figure out what has happened to him, where or when he has been hiding."

Rose cleared her throat, starting to get worried by the fact that there were two strange men ranting and raving about aliens and science fiction stuff with her alone in the flat. And she had almost started to believe them. Why did her mother have to go off and leave her here? She felt vulnerable at this point. Then she heard the cat flap moving in the distance and, wondering if a stray had gotten in, she went off to check it out as John and Sherlock continued arguing.

"We're getting nowhere." Sherlock said, shaking his head. "The Doctor isn't here anymore, he isn't going to show up-"

Suddenly, Sherlock and John heard a snatch of conversation coming from the front door between Rose and another man with a northern accent, and the two men poked their heads out to see the Doctor had arrived, according to Mycroft's surveillance footage. They were absolutely flabbergasted and excited by his appearance. They had heard about him only last night, but already he had been built up into a legend in their own minds. He knocked Rose on the head for some reason, Sherlock assumed it was to check if she was plastic if he was searching for the Autons, and then she pulled the Doctor inside.

"Listen, these two whacko men here think you're some kind of alien, which is ridiculous." Rose started to say, pointing at the strangers, not noticing how the Doctor stopped and gaped at them.

"Who are you two people?" The Doctor asked, darkening as John fidgeted under his harsh gaze. "Where did you come from, who do you work for?" Rose frowned to herself, wondering what was going on with this confrontation.

"We're with Scotland Yard." Sherlock said, not quailing as he assessed the Doctor's appearance and noted his emotional stress the harsh exterior. "My name is Sherlock Holmes, and this is my assistant, Dr. John Watson. It is…an honor to meet you, Doctor." Sherlock truly meant that.

"Assistant?" John muttered to himself.

"The pleasure isn't mine." The Doctor growled. "Can't you people leave me alone?" Sherlock felt slightly offended, but mollified himself.

"What are you doing here?" John asked the Doctor, intimidated but standing up for himself.

"Isn't it obvious?" Sherlock asked before the Doctor could answer 'It's none of your business'. "He's looking for the Autons or something like that, probably using his sonic screwdriver to scan for them."

Rose laughed, trying to relieve the tension. "Sonic screwdriver, see, this is the kind of ridiculous things these two have come up with."

"Yeah, sonic screwdriver, ridiculous." The Doctor said, trying to look nonchalant even though he felt offended by her ridicule. His sonic screwdriver was a useful device, a scientific tool he had used to save his life more than once. He stiffened and then asked Sherlock, "How did you two find out so much about me? Who else knows about this?"

"Well, if it isn't obvious," Sherlock started to explain the situation to the Doctor and Rose, both of them skeptic for different reasons, as John turned around, thinking he had heard or seen something dart behind the armchair. He extracted himself from the conversation, not really being noticed at this point, to check out what was behind there. Suddenly, a plastic arm leapt out from behind the armchair and attacked John, trying to choke and strangle him.

The Doctor, Rose, and then Sherlock looked up and round to see what was going on as Rose asked, "What is it with men and plastic arms?"

"John!" Sherlock shouted, darting into the room to try and wrench the plastic arm off of his friend, but then it flew around and attacked Sherlock instead.

"Sherlock!" John shouted, and tried to struggle with the plastic arm strangling Sherlock, both of them falling and crashing into the glass coffee table.

The Doctor and Rose stood off to the side, watching the scene in shock and horror, and then for some reason, the Doctor started laughing helplessly. Rose frowned and elbowed him sharply. "Ow! What you did you do that for?" The Doctor asked, rubbing the sore spot.

"They're in trouble! Can't you help them?" Rose asked, starting to realize that this was a serious situation, and maybe all of the alien stuff was true, with the way that plastic arm had spun round in midair.

The Doctor sighed and said, "All right," reaching into his coat pocket to remove—

"Is that your sonic screwdriver?" Rose said, laughing in spite of herself as she saw the small device.

"Hey, don't laugh! This is a real lifesaver here and I should know!" The Doctor insisted, waving the device, before he jumped into the fray and depowered the homicidal plastic arm. "See? Harmless." He said, tossing the arm back at Rose, who then hit him with it. "Ow! What was that for?" He asked her.

"For taking so long." Rose said, glancing down at her other two visitors, lying on the floor and gasping for breath, both of them bruised and scratched by the fall, glass, and strangulation with marks and nicks left behind. Not to mention the wreck of a coffee table. Her mother wasn't going to like this mess one bit. "They could have been killed." Rose said, realizing how dangerous this whole situation was.

"Clever observation." Sherlock managed to say. He had been through worse than this before, though he couldn't exactly remember when.

"It's what they deserve. This is why you don't go messing about in things you don't understand!" The Doctor shouted at them, further annoying Sherlock. "You could have been killed. Next time, stay well clear of me, you got that?"

"Got it." John muttered, feeling tired, beaten, and having just about enough of it.

"How dare you threaten them like this." Rose said, feeling offended.

"They threatened me." The Doctor told her. He truly did seem alien in that moment.

"Wait a minute here!" Sherlock shouted, standing up. "You can't just dismiss us like this, Doctor. We want to help you."

"Help him?" John asked, staring up at Sherlock. "When did this become about helping him? We wanted to learn more about him, but now we should be helping ourselves by getting out of here." John added.

"Help me? No, I've had enough of this. I'm getting out of here." The Doctor muttered, taking off.

"Hold on a minute, you can't just go swanning off like this!" Rose shouted at the Doctor, taking off after him.

"I'm not letting you leave either!" Sherlock shouted after the Doctor before he turned around to his friend still lying on the floor. "The game is afoot, John! Get up, we're leaving before he can get away from us!"

"Can't I just rest here for one minute more?" John asked.

"There is no time!" Sherlock shouted, leaving the flat.

"Isn't there always supposed to be time with a Time Lord?" John muttered to himself, but he got up and followed after them.


	3. Melodramatic

After John paused to fish out Sherlock's laptop from the wreckage of the coffee table, Sherlock and John hurried down the staircase, out into the alleyway, and then across the Powell Estate after the Doctor and Rose, hearing them arguing from afar until that arguing slowly turned into some light-hearted banter and conversation. Sherlock held himself and John back from disrupting their conversation, intrigued in spite of his wish to interrogate the Doctor himself to let it continue flowing and see how it progressed.

He wondered for a moment if Rose was attaching herself to the Doctor. The Doctor certainly didn't seem to mind having her there as he explained the situation to her. Perhaps there was the chance that this Doctor, who had been alone when he had showed up at Henriks without a companion by his side, wouldn't be so alone for much longer. He wanted to see how this relationship developed between a Doctor and his companion firsthand.

John, however, was starting to sporadically limp a little bit with the stress of the situation turning into a nightmare and then dully fading away into an ache as the stress, thrill, and adrenaline faded as well. Not to mention all of that walking. He was starting to get bored and agitated, wondering what they should be doing here. He wanted to keep up with the Doctor and Rose too, worried about the girl and interested in the alien, but he wondered if it was really worth all of this bother and aggravation to him and Sherlock.

There was the Doctor's threat, after all, that they could get themselves killed just by following after him and with what he and Sherlock had read, seen, and just now experienced, perhaps they should take that threat seriously. He wondered if they should leave, since they weren't even involving themselves with the Doctor and Rose, just following after them. He didn't see the point in it, even if Sherlock seemed distracted by it.

"Oh, what are you two doing now?" The Doctor asked, turning around to face Sherlock and John following after them like a pair of puppy dogs on the edge of the Powell Estate. "Go home, shoo, fly away, little ducklings."

"Little ducklings?" John asked, offended as he limped up towards them, having fallen behind a little bit. "Who does he think we are?"

"I happen to think of myself as a swan." Sherlock remarked.

"Or a whooping crane." The Doctor joked, and then noticed John's limp. "What's the matter with him?" He asked. "Shouldn't he be taking it easy?"

"Oh, the limp is psychosomatic, it's all in his head." Sherlock said, dismissive.

"Thanks for noticing." John muttered, rolling his eyes.

"The head's still a troubling place." The Doctor said. "You need to get that tended to."

"Tried therapy before, didn't exactly work." John said before pointing at Sherlock. "Running around with him, solving cases, seems to make it better and worse at the same time."

"Thank you, John, I think." Sherlock hesitated. "John's a veteran army doctor with PTSD and a shoulder injury from Afghanistan, much like you, Doctor, with your own war injuries and emotional distress. What are you hiding?" Sherlock asked the Doctor.

The Doctor stopped, feeling like he had been hit hard in the chest with two tonnes and his hearts were split with that fresh reminder. Who did this man, this human ape who thought he knew better, analyzing and seeing through the Doctor like this, yet not seeing him at all, think he was? John hissed, realizing how insensitive Sherlock was being at the Doctor's reaction. Not every soldier could recover from or even recognize their wounds.

"War injuries?" Rose murmured, now concerned about both John and the Doctor.

"It's fine enough." John said. "It fades." He said for both himself and the Doctor's benefit.

"Not always. Not entirely." The Doctor said, staring at the two men standing before him, really seeing them for the first time, the headstrong, self-denying, self-deprecating veteran and the arrogant, uncaring, dismissive genius, and saw two halves of himself. It was heart-wrenching. He asked, "Who are you?"

"Dr. John Watson here, and I am Sherlock Holmes." Sherlock said as John waved. "I'm a consulting detective with Scotland Yard, the only consulting detective in the world. John assists me."

"Is that the only thing he does?" Rose asked, amused as John blushed, though she was half-serious as she wondered if Sherlock only saw him as an assistant, not as a friend or something more.

"For now." Sherlock shrugged, not quite knowing what else to say. John bit his lip, not really wanting to say anything at the present moment.

"A detective named Sherlock Holmes and his army buddy Dr. John Watson…why does that sound so familiar to me?" The Doctor asked.

"Perhaps you've heard of us in the future?" John asked, optimistic. "I just started a blog about our adventures. We haven't had that many cases yet, but perhaps we will gain some notoriety."

"Adventures? Fame? A blog?" Sherlock groaned. "This will be the death of me."

"Who wouldn't want to be famous?" Rose asked.

"Me." The Doctor added, as Sherlock nodded in agreement.

"Don't be so melodramatic." John told Sherlock. "It's just fun, a hobby to pass away the time."

"You're the one who's melodramatic." Sherlock said. "The way you write, everyone expects me to fall over and weep, full of remorse. I'm not that way. You're the one who wrote my character that way! It's fictional misrepresentation!"

"Is there such a thing?" Rose asked.

"I've gotten it all of the time." The Doctor said. "And I know people who were misrepresented as well. Marie Antoinette wasn't so bad, you know." Rose's eyes widened at that.

"At least I'm not the one who's bored all the time and firing at the wall!" John shouted at Sherlock as the Doctor frowned. "You can't control your actions. If you can't call that melodramatic, I don't know what you can."

"Well, not all of us have the ability to hide our boredom and feign interest in the world, which you do all too well." Sherlock said.

"What do you mean?" John asked.

"You hide everything, John, even from yourself. I don't have that ability! I am a high-functioning sociopath, but still a sociopath and a genius! I know all too well what goes on in my mind and all around me." Sherlock said as Rose took a step back, away from him, and the Doctor sighed at both her reaction and Sherlock's words.

"Not everything, not always." John said. "You don't know half of what goes on around you when you see surface details and characteristic traits. You don't know half of what goes on in other people's hearts and minds."

"Bully for you, John." Rose remarked.

"Both of you are melodramatic." The Doctor added, rolling his eyes.

"And what about you, Doctor?" Sherlock asked. "Are you melodramatic?"

"Maybe I am and maybe I'm not. It just depends. I could be camp as well." The Doctor grinned as Rose laughed. "And Rose can be, too, I bet. How about you two? Can you be camp as well?" He asked the boys.

"We can be." John said as Sherlock glared at him.

"Great, perfect." The Doctor nodded. "Smashing, in fact. I think we can get along well."

"We can?" Both Sherlock and John asked, shocked, causing Rose and the Doctor to laugh.

Rose asked the Doctor who he was and he gave a speech about the turn of the earth and falling through space, grabbing Rose's hand before he let go of it, as Sherlock and John noticed the TARDIS in the distance behind the Doctor's shoulder. "Definitely melodramatic." Sherlock said as John nodded.

"Shut up." The Doctor muttered to them, walking off towards the TARDIS and shaking his head as Rose turned around and starting walking back home, not wanting to go and leave the Doctor, yet uncertain if she could travel with him. With everything the Doctor, Sherlock, and John had told her, she knew the Doctor wasn't normal, that he was an alien who went on all of these adventures, yet she didn't know if she could keep up with him.

"Come along, John." Sherlock said, heading after the Doctor when he refused to let him go, but John hesitated, looking after Rose, who seemed lost and alone. He felt bad for her.

"Shouldn't we follow after her?" John asked. "Mycroft did ask us to watch out for her and tail her." That was only half true, he knew, but it felt like the right thing to do.

"But the Doctor is leaving. Mycroft wanted us to find the Doctor." Sherlock insisted. "He's the most important one here. He might never be coming back." He added.

"No." John said, shaking his head and turning away to run after Rose. "You can go after the Doctor on your own."

"What? John-" Sherlock started to say, feeling betrayed and torn between the Doctor and John.

"I'm sorry!" John cried back, vanishing.

"Damn the man!" Sherlock shouted, sprinting after the Doctor instead. John would be fine on his own for now. Perhaps he might convince the Doctor to return sometime soon.

The Doctor had gotten the TARDIS door open and was heading inside when Sherlock pushed past him. "Oh no, not you! Get out!" The Doctor shouted, trying to stop Sherlock and haul him out of there, but Sherlock had pressed a button and the TARDIS started to dematerialize.

John winced when he heard that sound, but he continued following after Rose and caught up with her. "Hello, there." John said, smiling at her. "Mind if I join you for awhile?"

"Where's your friend?" Rose asked, looking around.

"He went with the Doctor." John told her.

"Oh. All right, I suppose you can tag along for a little while." Rose sighed and nodded. "I'm heading to my boyfriend's flat to get on his computer-"

"I've got one right here! A laptop, I mean, Sherlock's." John added, patting Sherlock's laptop bag.

"Can I use it to look up some more information on the Doctor?" Rose asked.

John nodded and they sat down in the empty field, booting up the laptop and researching the Doctor for a bit until the laptop's battery started to fade, but by then, they had gone through the files some more and found contact information for a man named Clive, a residential expert on him. "You've got a car we can use to go see him?" Rose asked John.

"No, and I'm low on funds for a cab all the way out to the suburbs." He told her.

"My boyfriend Mickey can help us." Rose said and so they set off with Mickey driving his yellow bug, occasionally throwing suspicious glances at John in the backseat, to see Clive.

Rose and John got out of the car, leaving Mickey behind, as they met Clive and went out to his shed. Rose gaped over the photographs and evidence of the Doctor's passage through time, but John got bored with the whole thing, especially when Clive didn't know much about the Doctor, just bits and pieces. John left early and headed back to the car, only to find Mickey was gone.

"Mickey?" John called, looking round for him as he rested his hand on a nearby trash can. "Where are you?" He muttered and tried to let go of the trash can, but couldn't. Before he knew it, he was swallowed up by it, and everything went dark.

Rose returned to the car, muttering about Clive being a nutter, as John and Mickey sat, stiff and plastic, inside the car. "I fancy a pizza." Rose said and both Auton John and Auton Mickey repeated the word.

* * *

"You're running away again, aren't you?" Sherlock asked the Doctor, not fully ready yet to look around and appreciate the TARDIS. "Abandoning us to the Nestene and Autons?"

"No, I'm not!" The Doctor cried. "I didn't intend to leave, not completely anyway! I came in here to get this arm analyzed and to look for the Nestene Consciousness frequency that's controlling it! You should have figured that out by now if you're some kind of great detective!" He wasn't lying completely.

"Oh." Sherlock said, realizing he might have made some big mistake in messing with the TARDIS, taking them away. "So you will be returning back there?"

"No, I'm tracking the signal to wherever it might take me. Might not even be the same time period at this rate." The Doctor said, taking the arm over to some kind of scanning device on the console. "Where's John? Shouldn't he have barged in here with you?" The Doctor asked, looking around.

"He stayed behind. He chose to go after Rose instead." Sherlock said, concerned about him.

"So you abandoned him?" The Doctor said, attaching the arm to the scanner.

"No, I did not!" Sherlock shouted. "He's not abandoned, he's free and independent. He can help himself. He made his own choice. It was the wrong one, but I will catch up with him again, unlike you, Doctor, who has chosen to abandon and stay away from people you once called your friends."

"It wasn't always my choice." The Doctor said, looking down as the scan began. "Sometimes it got harder and harder to catch up with them. So he's not joined at the hip with you?" The Doctor asked, looking up. "What is he, then? Your lover, friend, or partner?"

"Partner, maybe, friend, perhaps, lover? I'll get back to you on that." Sherlock said as the Doctor scoffed. "I met him just a month ago. He needed a flat, I had one that was too expensive for me to rent alone, and so we moved in together. He helped me out on a case, saved my life by shooting a cabbie coaxing me to poison myself-"

"John shot a cabbie coaxing you to poison yourself?" The Doctor asked, shocked.

"It was murder by competitive suicide, quite ingenious, really." Sherlock said. "The cabbie was smart enough to figure out your woes and weaknesses, scars deep enough to kill yourself over. He then challenged you at gunpoint to choose one of two pills, one of which was poison and the other wasn't, as he took the other pill. Whoever survived won. He murdered three others this way."

"Ingenious, I suppose, in a foul, murderous way." The Doctor frowned. "Did you really want to take the pill?"

"In the most desperate way to find out if I was right and he was wrong." Sherlock said.

"Hopeless." The Doctor shook his head, turning back to check on the progress of the scan. "So John saved and helped you in a way I don't approve of, by the way, no guns with me here. And he's been helping you ever since?"

Sherlock nodded. "We've worked on several cases together since, nothing like this, though. We're sort of desperate for more, Scotland Yard has given us very little and when my brother Mycroft told us-"

"Mycroft? Mycroft Holmes?" The Doctor gasped, staring at Sherlock. "You're his brother?"

"You've heard of him?" Sherlock asked, stunned.

"He is the British Government, of course I've heard of him." The Doctor rolled his eyes. "And I've got the British Government's brother in my TARDIS! Mycroft is after me, isn't he?" The Doctor asked. When Sherlock nodded, he groaned. "What a lousy, rotten day this has been! This was a mistake, getting messed up with you."

"It certainly hasn't been easy for me either." Sherlock said, pausing long enough to take in and inspect the TARDIS. "You've changed it completely. The war must have heavily damaged it. What sort of a war was it?"

"None of your business." The Doctor said and finally the scan was complete. The Doctor checked and groaned. "The signal isn't strong enough. This piece is dead, disconnected from the Nestene Consciousness when I deactivated it at Rose's flat, saving yours and John's miserable little lives. We need to find some more live pieces of plastic that the Nestene controls to track it down.

"Can you track those Autons down?" Sherlock asked.

"Working on it." The Doctor said, setting up a scan, and then grinned. "Couple of Autons right near here, hang on tight!" He cried, flipping a switch and the TARDIS rattled into life, Sherlock holding on as they materialized in an alleyway behind a fancy pizzeria. Sherlock and the Doctor rushed out of the TARDIS to capture a piece of living Autons.

"John's an Auton!" Sherlock shouted a few minutes later, trying to keep Auton John's plastic arm from strangling him while the Doctor had gotten hold of Mickey's head as the two of them entered the TARDIS. "Why is he made of plastic? He shouldn't be made of plastic!"

He was furious with the Doctor, with himself for leaving John behind, and with John for getting himself into this predicament. Sherlock had recognized right away that this John wasn't real, especially when he stretched out of shape to wrap himself around Sherlock. Sherlock and the Doctor had managed to dismember the Auton John and Mickey and with Rose in tow, had fled the pizzeria. Rose was still outside, though, panicking.

"Rose! Get in here!" Sherlock opened the TARDIS door and shouted at her.

"All right, all right, I'm coming," Rose said, fleeing into the TARDIS and then gasping as she finally glimpsed the full depth and wonder of its interior.

"Close the door!" The Doctor shouted back at Sherlock, while Rose remained stunned. "Yeah, sorry about that, it happens sometimes. Comes with the turf!" The Doctor shouted back at Sherlock, still furious with him and John for getting involved. The Time Lord plopped Mickey's head down on the console next to the scanner. He was slightly worried as well about what was happening here, if the Autons and the Nestene Consciousness were already claiming lives, and John was caught in the crossfire, but he didn't want to show his concern when that might worry everybody.

"Where is John? The real, live, breathing, human John? Is he still alive?" Sherlock asked, plopping John's arm down on the console next to the head as Rose started crying, thinking about Mickey and John dying.

"I don't know. Maybe." The Doctor said. "They might need the real, living people to maintain the copies, but once the copies are pointless-"

"Did we just sign their death warrants?" Sherlock asked.

"They're melting!" Rose pointed out. Sherlock and the Doctor panicked then, the Doctor trying to track down the signal as Sherlock asked if there was anything he could do to help pilot the TARDIS or preserve the heads.

"No!" The Doctor shouted as they materialized on the bank of the Thames. The Doctor complained at how close they had gotten.

"We traveled." Rose said, still marveling over the TARDIS.

"What are we looking for?" Sherlock asked, getting out and coming up to the Doctor. "Where might the Nestene be hiding? What sort of marks or clues, there must be something that can lead us to them!" And to John before he died.

"The signal is the only thing. It needs a transmitter to boost the signal. A great big whopping transmitter right in the middle of London!" The Doctor shouted.

"Got it." Sherlock said, and started running off. It took a bit for the Doctor and Rose to catch up with his thoughts and then with him, heading across Westminster Bridge towards the London Eye.

"Are you sure we're heading the right way?" Rose asked. "What about the footbridge?"

"Underground complex for the waterworks along the Thames!" Sherlock shouted. "Perfect hiding place for the Nestene Consciousness and the Autons, runs right underneath the London Eye so they can connect their transmitter there. Westminster Bridge is closest to the nearest access point, the footbridge is too far."

"Fantastic!" The Doctor shouted, surprised by Sherlock's intelligence.

"I know." Sherlock said as they raced down the steps to the riverbank, opened up a waterworks shaft, and entered the complex. They still had to save John and Mickey, of course.


	4. Heaven and Hell

"Is there any way of destroying it?" Sherlock asked as he, the Doctor, and Rose spied the Nestene Consciousness.

"I've got some anti-plastic, but I'm not going to use it until I've given them a second chance." The Doctor said.

"Typical for you. I wouldn't even try." Sherlock muttered, but then he spotted John and Mickey down below, surrounded by Autons. He and Rose rushed down to them, while the Doctor continued on to confront the Nestene Consciousness alone.

"What happened, Sherlock? What the hell is going on here?" John shook his head, still a little dazed after having woken up a few minutes ago in a strange, dark place surrounded by plastic figures and a bubbling, roaring liquid vat of fire below. Not to mention feeling annoyed by the creeped-out, babbling, blubbering Mickey sitting next to him that Rose was currently trying to comfort.

"It's all right, John, you're safe." Sherlock said, kissing him on the forehead, stunning the others. "We'll get you out of here."

"I've died, haven't I?" John asked, confused by the hellish place and Sherlock's heavenly kiss. He wanted some more of that.

"No, John, you haven't and you won't." Sherlock insisted. "Come on, let's go see what type of trouble the Doctor has managed to get himself into."

He stood up, pulling John along with him, and pushed past the Autons, ignoring them while John managed to follow after him. The Doctor called out to the Nestene Consciousness using the Shadow Proclamation, which Sherlock briefly noted and considered asking the Doctor about later, if there was such a time since he might have need of invoking such a power if he traveled with the Time Lord. Sherlock and John joined the Doctor on the lower level platform, overlooking the Nestene Consciousness immediately below them, while Mickey and Rose remained on the level above, watching them.

John grimaced at the sight of the Nestene Consciousness, slightly sickened by its ghoulish appearance, while Sherlock was fascinated by his first sight of a truly alien intelligence beyond his comprehension. The Doctor might be an alien, but he was almost human in his characteristics and manners and could be comprehensible. Sherlock certainly understood him in part from what little he had read of UNIT's and Torchwood's profiles on him, and had deduced several more details about him upon meeting, such as his recent wartime experience.

But this thing was gorgeous and deadly at the same time, hardly human at all in its behavior and characteristics. He could not understand it, and he wanted to know more about these alien creatures. Yet the Doctor casually and even crudely spoke to the Nestene Consciousness, provoking and verbally attacking it with jokes and the truth of the situation. Sherlock was almost certain the Nestene Consciousness would not take these threats well. Better get the anti-plastic ready, Doctor, Sherlock thought to himself.

John shifted away from the Doctor, painting a target on his back, and glanced around, aware of the Autons circling round them. "Should we really be doing this right now? Shouldn't we be getting out of here?"

"I'm afraid it's too late, John. Things have already reached the breaking point. There's no turning back now." Sherlock whispered, taking note of where the Autons were positioned and preparing himself to fight them. "Use it now, Doctor." Sherlock urged.

"No." The Doctor briefly told him, knowing what Sherlock meant.

He admired and hated the Doctor at this point for putting them into this precarious position, but he did not blame the Time Lord so much when this was his usual behavior and means of attack—verbally confronting an opponent without an escape route until something came to him. Hopefully something would come to the Doctor about now, like the anti-plastic he had on hand. But the Autons seized the Doctor while he was distracted. Sherlock and John attempted to fight them off until their hands lowered, revealing ray guns. Sherlock and John surrendered at this point, while things had escalated between the Doctor and the Nestene Consciousness.

Both his anti-plastic vial and TARDIS had been discovered. Sherlock mentally cursed the Doctor for waiting too long to play his trump. The Doctor's voice choked up as he pleaded with the Nestene Consciousness, telling it that he was not to blame for what happened in the war. What was this war that had so plagued and affected the Doctor and the Nestene Consciousness, Sherlock mused, even face-to-face with an Auton gun. It had to be something of a cosmic nature if it affected multiple planets with the Doctor caught up in the middle of it all.

John simply wondered if he was about to die, squeezing his eyes shut as he prayed that it would be quick and pain-free. Sherlock should not be here with him, though. He wished that Sherlock could be spared. "Invasion of the plastic people. Death by plastic ray gun." John muttered, giggling to himself when there was nothing left for him to do.

"John, please shut up." Sherlock tried to think of a way out of this mess, but nothing came to him, just the thought of that anti-plastic—clutched in the hand of one of the Autons close to the edge of the platform above the vat. If only that thing would fall right in the middle of the Nestene Consciousness. That would surely destroy it. But he was not in the position to bump into the Auton, at least not yet.

At the moment…"Sir!" Anthea called out, running to Mycroft at MI6 headquarters. "There are multiple attacks taking place in the middle of London and the surrounding area, except they seem to involve plastic mannequins."

"Plastic mannequins? Are you sure?" Mycroft asked before checking out the CCTV display, which caused his ashen face to pale even more than usual at the sight of the massacre. "Plastic mannequins. It's just like in one of those UNIT documents on the Doctor…the Automatons, or Autons I believe they were called."

"They're coming this way." Anthea said, her ear pressed up to her mobile. "That's just a few blocks away from us."

"Get UNIT on the phone!" Mycroft ordered. "They must have some kind of attack plan in place for such an invasion, from the 70s or 80s, whenever. Something to destroy these bloody plastic mannequins!"

"What about Torchwood?" Anthea asked. "The attacks are spreading too far and too fast for UNIT alone to handle. We need more experienced, trained containment forces."

"They aren't ready to deal with this type of threat yet, are they?" Mycroft asked. Anthea shrugged and Mycroft continued, "Well, get in touch with them in any case, maybe they've got something on hand to ward them off. Tell Torchwood to patrol densely populated areas close to wherever these mannequins might be displayed and keep a low profile. Increase our security patrol here."

"Yes, sir," Anthea said, running off again to send out his orders.

"Sherlock, where are you?" Mycroft was worried that his brother might somehow be involved in this mess when he had sent out Sherlock to find out more about the Doctor sighting.

He never should have given Sherlock all of that information. It had just stoked his brother's brain and ego too much and excited him to the point of diving off into some strange, new adventure. But part of the reason why Mycroft had gotten Sherlock involved in the first place was because Sherlock was the only person he knew of who could handle and maybe even survive such dangerous encounters with the Doctor. He just hoped his brother had the doctor, Dr. John Watson to be precise, to keep him company and keep him sane.

Meanwhile, police and emergency services were flooded with calls from Queen Arcade and the surrounding area, with SWAT teams and London's finest, including New Scotland Yard, being sent there. Lestrade was among the first at the scene. "Cor blimey, what is going on here?" He muttered to himself, shaking his head at the sight of plastic mannequins lumbering about, firing at people. It was like a bloody warzone here. He hadn't believed the news about this plastic-faced mob, but now that he saw them in action, he knew that nothing would be normal again. Sherlock would probably get a kick out of it, though.

"What should we do here?" Sally Donovan asked as she and the rest of the force cowered behind their patrol cars.

"All right, we need to get civilians out of the area and under cover." Lestrade ordered Sally and any officer within hearing distance. "Guns are authorized. Take out any of these plastic-faced, armed assailants when possible, but make sure to aim and fire if it's clear. The army should be coming soon, hopefully, to deal with this mess. We'll be holding them off until help arrives." With that, Lestrade emerged and started firing at the mannequins, followed by Donovan and the rest of the force. The mannequins were distracted enough by the armed response that they started turning away from helpless victims to attacking the police.

Other people across London, like Mrs. Hudson and Molly Hooper, remained glued to their TV sets and news reports, afraid to come out of hiding and face the terror on the streets. But just outside of London's metropolitan area, in a palatial manor on a country estate, two figures gleefully watched the action on the screen.

"What did I tell you?" The Master laughed. "Plastic makes it possible. Plastic is the future of humanity. The Autons will win!"

"Plastic is dull, boring, and clichéd, much like your wife Lucy." Moriarty muttered. "I still say we should have stuck with the Slitheen. They're already in place, you know, awaiting our final orders, ready to strike."

"Oh, you just like the way they fart." The Master muttered, slumping back down in his seat, causing Moriarty to laugh.

"I can't help it. It's so amusing that out of all the bodily functions available to them from such a wide arrange of features, the only way they can compress and expel so much of that pressure is to fart." Moriarty laughed again before he sighed. "Imagine such great hunters farting all of the time! Plus, I liked their plan." He grew more serious. "It seems to be an elaborate ruse, yet it's more fun that way. And I can't help thinking of that nice, tidy sum of intergalactic money we were going to make from the sale of chunks of this burned out earth. Cinders and ash."

"We did get a finder's fee for bringing the Nestene Consciousness here to this planet, full of rich toxins and dioxides." The Master remarked. "That's worth something, is it not?"

"If you say so." Moriarty said in a sing-song voice, turning back to the screen. "I'm still waiting for the results."

Meanwhile, the Doctor called out to Rose and Mickey to leave, the invasion was about to start, but Rose took the time to answer a phone call—bugger it all, Sherlock thought to himself. Pointless, idiotic conversation when they were all about to die. Rose and Mickey fumbled with the TARDIS door when the stairs fell, but then Rose turned and faced the Doctor as a disembodied voice, possibly from the Consciousness called out, 'Time Lord', causing both Sherlock and John to shiver. John opened his eyes and watched alongside Sherlock as Rose and the Doctor stared at each other, riveted, and suddenly Rose raced away from the TARDIS, towards some chains hanging nearby on the upper level. Somehow, she had gotten hold of an axe to cut them loose.

"Oh, clever girl." Sherlock said to himself as she made a somewhat grandiose speech, grabbed the chain, and swung across like a female Tarzan.

She plowed into a long line of Autons, knocking them down and helping to free the Doctor, who shook off his captors. This distracted the Autons near Sherlock and John enough that Sherlock managed to knock into the Auton holding the anti-plastic vial, causing both to fall into the Nestene Consciousness. But Sherlock nearly fell in as well, overbalanced on the edge of the platform.

And as he was about to be swallowed up in the liquid fire of the alien intelligence screaming in agony, Sherlock comprehended it at last, for he felt the same way facing death and contemplating all that he had failed to achieve and do. No, there was so much more that could be done and seen, he had so much left to do! But John somehow managed to grab hold of the consulting detective, possibly by his coat, and pull him back from the edge, causing both of them to fall down backwards on the platform.

"That's enough of that, now." John managed to say as they both got up. "Can't lose you, too, can I?"

"No. Thank you, John." Sherlock said, gasping for breath and relieved to have his blogger back with him as Rose swung back and was caught by the Doctor with a smile. Everything started exploding around them then and they raced up to the TARDIS, where Mickey was waiting for them. Rose glanced back once, still smiling as she entered the TARDIS.

"Oh my god." Both John and Mickey said at that point, seeing the interior of the TARDIS for the first time (technically second time for John, although the video of the old TARDIS interior didn't really count) as it dematerialized from the exploding base.

All across London, and as far as the Nestene Consciousness signal had spread, the plastic mannequins started malfunctioning, and then ceased to function altogether, turning back into regular plastic figures. Mycroft checked the CCTV feed twice to make sure the cameras had not malfunctioned and then froze with the plastic malfeasance, but once he was certain everything was correct and seemingly back to normal, he told Anthea to call UNIT and Torchwood to rescind his orders. They weren't needed anymore, probably thanks to the Doctor and maybe his little brother Sherlock. Mother would be inordinately proud of him if she knew, Mycroft was certain with a roll of his eyes and a small smile.

Lestrade ordered his forces to cease firing when he and the others saw the plastic-faced assailants falling apart, truly revealing them to be made of nothing more than plastic, not human. "What the devil just happened here?" He asked, aghast. Most people were wondering the same question, although they still had to deal with the fallout of the attack, namely the dead and wounded. Molly Hooper was certain the morgue at St. Barts would be full when she got there tomorrow morning, and she shivered at the thought of all those helpless victims dying on London's streets. Who or what could have done such a thing?

At the palatial manor, Moriarty laughed even harder as the Master stared at the screen, horrified. "No, no, no, no! The Autons were supposed to win." The Master shouted. "It was all set up so perfectly. Everything should have gone right, for once in my lifetimes!"

"You can't make those Autons do anything right!" Moriarty cried. "You tried once before with them, I know that, back in the 70s. And they even tried to invade by themselves sometime before that, but they failed! They fail every single time they try to take control! You can't win when you're made of plastic!"

"You're wrong! They never failed, they were always defeated by the Doctor." The Master gasped as Moriarty froze, staring up at him in shock and awe. "He's here." The Master said. "The Doctor, he's here, he's come at last!"

"After all this time?" Moriarty said. "He's been gone for so long without any sign of him. Please tell me it's not a false alarm like last time!"

"It's the Doctor, I'm telling you! He's here, he's returned, and we shall crush him and Sherlock Holmes!" The Master and Moriarty laughed at that.

Inside the TARDIS, the Doctor rounded on Sherlock. "You did that on purpose, knocked the Auton and the anti-plastic into the vat."

"I did what I had to do." Sherlock admitted. "You weren't able to do that when the Autons had you. They were winning, you were losing, and if someone didn't do something, like me and Rose, then none of us would be standing here alive and the earth would practically be dead, taken over by plastic."

John, Rose, and Mickey winced at this painful reminder as they glanced around the TARDIS, still shocked and surprised by it all, yet taking it in. Mickey blubbered a little bit, though, certain that they were going to be destroyed and not quite aware that the TARDIS was moving away from the hellish den. He was still thinking that this was some sort of nightmare. John and Rose remained cool, calm, and collected. They were certain that they were safe enough here, especially with Sherlock and the Doctor present to take control of things.

"Is that all you can think about? Winning and losing? It's not all a game, you know, Sherlock." The Doctor said. John nodded to himself, agreeing with that sentiment, though Sherlock sometimes could not see that.

"I know, but sometimes the game is the only important thing that matters." Sherlock said. "Life and death can be a game sometimes and you were jeopardizing all of our lives on a gamble by offering the Autons a second chance. You knew the odds weren't even in your favor by bringing the anti-plastic with you. You were going to destroy them if you failed. I just did it for you."

"I know!" The Doctor shouted, staring at Sherlock as John whipped his head around, surprised by this turn of events. John hadn't quite understood everything that was going on back at the complex, having missed a whole bunch, but he understood that the Nestene and Autons had somehow been destroyed—yet he hadn't known it was by Sherlock's hands.

"I tried to give them a second chance." The Doctor muttered, still thinking of his failure as he turned away to the console. "People deserve a second chance. It's more than I got or deserved."

"Well sometimes, they don't take their second chances." Sherlock said. "You either have to force it on them or give up. I gave up for you so that you didn't have to." John frowned, slightly worried about his friend.

The Doctor paused and glanced askance at Sherlock. "Thanks, I think, but it shouldn't have been necessary."

"You're welcome. And you can really thank me by taking John and me with you on your travels." Sherlock added with a smile, turning away from the Doctor, who looked like he was going to have an apoplectic attack. John's eyes widened, not certain how he felt about that idea.

"What about that Nestene Consciousness?" John asked, looking up and interrupting before the Doctor could get too enraged. "How did it get down there? Who installed it in that vat? How did it get to this planet?"

"Well done, John, excellent questions. Doctor, do you have an answer for those?" Sherlock queried.

"I don't know." The Doctor said, frowning. "I don't know and now we'll never find out, thanks to you."

"Why didn't you notice Mickey and John were Autons?" Sherlock rounded on Rose now.

"What?" John's head popped up. "I was what?"

"I don't know! I hadn't met John before, I didn't notice-" Rose started to say.

"That even your own boyfriend was plastic?" Sherlock finished for her, smiling as she blushed and the Doctor laughed.

"You couldn't tell me from a fake replica of me?" Mickey gasped.

"I'm sorry, it didn't cross my mind that you could be." Rose said.

"You still should have known. Just how well do you know him?" Sherlock asked Rose.

"Not very well at all." She admitted.

"That's the truth, isn't it?" Mickey said.

"You knew I was plastic, right?" John asked Sherlock.

"Of course I knew, straightaway." Sherlock insisted. "The stretching didn't help."

"Thanks for that." John said, not certain how to take it as they materialized on the edge of the Powell Estate.

Mickey stumbled out of the TARDIS, shocked by the sudden movement and finding himself in a different place, not the blown-up complex, with Rose and the Doctor following after him, though the Doctor paused in the doorway. Sherlock stopped John from moving any farther as they stood by the console. "We need to stay in the TARDIS in order to travel with the Doctor and the only way we can do that is not to leave the TARDIS." Sherlock told John. "Or else the Doctor will force us out."

"Are you sure this is such a good idea, traveling with the Doctor?" John asked.

"Do you want to leave and give up on traveling with the Doctor?" Sherlock asked, uncertain about John's response. He certainly wanted to continue, but he didn't know how he would feel, not having John with him. It didn't seem right, somehow, if he went on alone with the Doctor and left John behind. He was torn between John and the Doctor at this point.

John hesitated, feeling pressured to stay, even though he knew how dangerous it was, because he and Sherlock sort of had enjoyed it and maybe the Doctor would be all right to travel with, once they got to know him some more. Plus, there was so much out there that he hadn't experienced, and he wanted to know more as well. "All right, we'll stay." John murmured and nodded.

"Excellent." Sherlock smiled, pleased, and even John smiled as well.

The Doctor, at this point, made an appeal to Rose to travel with him, but Sherlock and John were shocked at this point to hear Rose reject his offer. "I thought she liked him." John said. "He liked her, after all, he asked her."

"I did, too." Sherlock frowned to himself, wondering about that. There had to be something more there with Rose and the Doctor. She might be concerned about Mickey and her mum, but there had to be some reason why she was attracted to the Doctor in the first place to consider being with him. But what made her not want to go, besides her concerns and the danger?

At that point, the Doctor's emotional responses had shut down. He had closed the TARDIS doors, probably feeling heartbroken, dejected, and rejected, and walked back up to the console and started to dematerialize his ship, not even looking up at Sherlock and John. The two men remained silent for a moment, certain that the Doctor might lash out at them once they were gone, calling them irritating, pointless, and stupid when he felt so bad, and afraid that he might kick them out as soon as possible.

"Time travel." Sherlock suddenly said, realizing what was missing here.

"What was that?" The Doctor said, looking up at Sherlock in shock as if he didn't know the other man had existed and then withheld anger that he did.

"You didn't tell Rose about the time travel." Sherlock said. "You mentioned how it can go anywhere in space, but you forgot to mention time travel. I believe she might like that particular feature of the TARDIS most of all." John glanced between the Doctor and Sherlock, wondering what was going on here and what the detective had figured out.

"Are you serious?" The Doctor asked. "So if I went back there and told her-"

"She might come." Sherlock said. "She might."

"All right, I'll give it a go." The Doctor sighed, not certain if it would work, but he tried to act more cheerful as he rematerialized the TARDIS back where Rose and Mickey were, stuck his head out, and spoke up. Rose smiled, nodded at him, kissed Mickey good-bye and then raced for the TARDIS.

The Doctor stuck his head back in, overwhelmed and turned back to Sherlock with a large, genuine smile and said, "It worked!"

"Told you!" Sherlock laughed and turned to John, hugging him tightly, pleased with the way things had turned out as Rose entered the TARDIS and it dematerialized, leaving Mickey and the Powell Estate far behind them. Good riddance, Sherlock thought to himself, glad to be gone. Earth and the 21st century were gone, and they were heading out into the unknown. Sherlock couldn't wait to get there.

John felt his heart pounding. The adventure was just beginning, and they were going who knows where and who knows when with a mad, heartbroken, torn and shredded Time Lord at the controls. He felt like anything could happen, anything might, and that scared and thrilled him more than anything with Sherlock by his side. Anything could happen to them. They might become as broken and scarred as this mad, lost Time Lord, or they might lead the grandest, happiest adventure of theirs and any lifetimes. It was all just beginning for them.


	5. A Point

It took him a while, but Mickey finally managed to locate his car in front of a pizzeria he and Rose frequented, which plastic Mickey must have taken her to last night, and luckily, it had not been broken into. He managed to get in and looked around to see if everything was all right, at which point he spotted the laptop that Dr. John Watson must have left behind when he was taken by the plastic Autons.

Mickey frowned to himself, not knowing what to do with the stupid laptop except to check it out so that he could figure out where to return it to with the doctor gone with the Doctor. He drove his car home, brought the laptop inside his flat, and set to work. It was password-protected with pretty good software, Mickey was surprised the doctor had taken such a precaution, but he had learned enough about coding and hacking already to break into the laptop, at which point he discovered that it was not the doctor's laptop, but Sherlock Holmes's.

He found dozens of case files on murder investigations, which caused Mickey's eyes to bug out at the gross, yet intricate details that Sherlock recorded on all of these investigations with his deductions laid out in full detail. And on top of that, there were files upon files from Torchwood and UNIT all about the alien Doctor, which caused Mickey to cover up his mouth in shock as he realized the sort of trouble that Rose, Dr. Watson, and Sherlock Holmes had gotten into. He read through all of these files, and then checked out everything he could on Sherlock Holmes's laptop, including emails, website, lab reports, police reports and special hacker and coder software, the last really causing Mickey to smile as he felt like he could break into any computer in the world using this stuff. He wanted to find out everything he possibly could about Sherlock Holmes and the Doctor at this point.

Suddenly, Mickey heard a pounding on his front door, which he answered to find Rose Tyler's mum Jackie right outside. "Where is she? Where is my daughter? What's happened to her?"

"She's not here, she's gone, but I've got something to show you. You better come inside." Mickey said.

"What do you mean, she's gone?" Jackie asked, following Mickey inside and stopping at the sight of the laptop. "What is this? Where did it come from? That's not yours!"

"It belongs to this investigator, Sherlock Holmes. His partner Dr. John Watson was holding on to it, but he left it behind when the two of them left with Rose and the Doctor last night." Mickey started to explain.

"What? Investigators? Like criminal investigators? And they left with my daughter and—what doctor?" Jackie frowned as she said, "I remember there were a pair of investigators who wanted to talk with Rose yesterday morning, that was the last I saw of her. There was a short, older man with blond hair and a limp and a tall, agile, sleek young man with dark hair-"

"Yeah, that was them! Sherlock and John!" Mickey turned on the laptop and showed her everything he could about Sherlock, John, and the alien Doctor.

Jackie gaped at all of this information and shook her head, "No, I don't-I don't believe you!" She left Mickey's apartment and called the police about her daughter's disappearance, but when they asked about any information she might have on her daughter's whereabouts and last known appearance, she did add the fact that Rose had last been seen with two blokes who might be Sherlock Holmes and Dr. John Watson. At which point, Lestrade was called in to question Jackie and Mickey as to the two men's involvement with Rose, a serious allegation in the girl's disappearance, and Mycroft was apprised of this latest development.

Mycroft frowned to himself as he read and listened to the testimonials of Mickey and Jackie recorded by the police, especially Mickey babbling on about the alien Doctor. "He knows too much information about the Doctor to have only met him once." Mycroft remarked to Anthea. "I fear my brother may have been too careless in mislaying his laptop and all of our top secret files on the Doctor. I thought he would have done better than that."

"Shall we locate and retrieve the laptop?" Anthea asked.

"Yes. And be sure to bring in Mickey Smith as well for questioning and debriefing. We can't have him spilling too many beans now, can we?" Mycroft asked.

"Of course, sir." Anthea sent off Mycroft's orders. Mickey Smith's flat was broken into late at night, Sherlock's laptop was retrieved, all of Mickey's computer equipment was wiped clean to destroy any duplication of Sherlock's files and Mickey himself was kidnapped and brought to MI6 headquarters.

"What's going on here?" Mickey asked, scared and nervous, but trying to hide it as Mycroft entered the room. Mickey recognized him. "You're Sherlock's brother, aren't you? Mycroft or what not? He's got your photo on his computer and with what he's written-"

"I could have you locked away for the rest of your life for stealing and spilling government secrets without a chance for appeal, so let's not make this any worse than it has to be, shall we?" Mycroft asked Mickey, smiling as he sat down before him.

"All right then." Mickey managed to say. "What's it going to take for you to free me?"

"A promise to be good, not to disclose anything of what you have learned, to rescind all of your testimony regarding Sherlock Holmes, Dr. John Watson, and the Doctor. And, of course, to keep a watchful eye out for my brother and both doctors, whenever they should return." Mycroft said.

"Do you want me to spy for you?" Mickey asked. "I could do that, you know. I could work for you."

"Don't push your luck." Mycroft said, studying the young man. "But yes, should the need arise, I want you on standby. Just in case. My assistant will provide you with further details and information."

"Thank you." Mickey Smith sagged in his chair. So Mickey confessed to Lestrade that he had lied about Sherlock and John being involved, and made up the story about the alien Doctor.

However, Jackie Tyler was another matter entirely. She would not rescind her testimony concerning Sherlock Holmes and Dr. John Watson, even though she didn't believe in the alien Doctor. Anthea attempted to visit Ms. Tyler and discuss the matter with her, even offering some compensation to help her, but Ms. Tyler outright refused. "I don't want compensation, I want my daughter! Where is she? Do you or any of your bosses know where she is?" Jackie was smart enough to figure out that something iffy was going on here, even if she couldn't figure out what sort of person Anthea was or who she worked for.

"No, Ms. Tyler, we don't know where she is." Anthea said, eying Rose's mother. "Neither can we get her back for you if you do not help us. We want your full cooperation on this matter."

"I'm not going to lie." Jackie insisted. "I'm going to insist, until my dying day, that Sherlock Holmes and his friend Dr. John Watson were there in my flat with Rose on the day she vanished. Something fishy is definitely going on here, and I'm going to get to the bottom of it. Even if I have to tear apart the whole bloody United Kingdom!"

"The mother is not going to work with us." Anthea told Mycroft later. "She will take this public and to court if she has to. She will expose everything about Sherlock and his friend."

"Can we afford to lose Sherlock?" Mycroft sighed to himself.

"Are you certain that you want to give up on him?" Anthea asked.

"We may not have any choice if Sherlock doesn't come back with Rose Tyler alive and well soon." Mycroft remarked. "And given that they're traveling with the Doctor, that isn't exactly a given."

"I'll make the arrangements soon." Anthea told him. "His activities will be entirely divorced from your own. It will be like you never had a brother."

"It worked last time." Mycroft muttered to himself. "What will I tell mum and dad, though?"

"I'm sure they will understand." Anthea lowered her head as she walked away from her boss.

"Hmm, Mycroft is panicking." Moriarty remarked, examining his reports. "He's effectively cut himself off from Sherlock, thanks to that disappearing girl trick." Moriarty snorted. "I tell you, Harold, that Doctor is an effective agent of chaos. Too bad he's not on our side, isn't it?"

"I've told you time and time again, don't call me Harold." The Master growled to himself, looking up at Moriarty. "It's the most useless, annoying, pointless name in the universe."

"Well, it is your name, Harold, until we make ourselves known." Moriarty glanced at the Master. "I'm sorry, do you still have that pounding headache?" Moriarty grinned and laughed, "Pound, pound, pounding away inside your brain."

"Enough!" The Master shouted, standing up and striding over to Moriarty. "Don't make me choke you to death. Or make you choke yourself."

"You can't work your mojo on me, Master." Moriarty grinned. "I'm immune. I'm not like everybody else. Certainly not like your wife Lucy."

"Pointless wife." The Master added, staring down at Moriarty.

"She's not pointless, not for a while yet." Moriarty glanced up at him. "We need her for now to establish you as a respectable politician and businessman before we make our move. If all else fails, she is key to our success in taking over everything."

"I like the way you think." The Master remarked.

"I learned from the best." Moriarty grinned, causing the Master to laugh.

* * *

It was painfully obvious to Sherlock as they watched the Doctor and Rose play with the TARDIS that the Doctor was just showing off his time travel capabilities for Rose, once he had learned that was key to engaging and retaining her interest in traveling with him. Even though it was Sherlock who had deduced this and helped the Doctor recapture Rose's heart, he found it boring in the extreme for them to be messing around like this and he still couldn't shake off the feeling that Rose had an ulterior motive in traveling with the Doctor when it came to the time travel aspect.

Of course, he and John were no better when they wanted to travel with the alien Doctor for the thrill of it all and to discover new, exciting worlds, but that sense of adventure and intellectual exploration was 'fun', 'camp', and pure in a sense that wasn't boring or 'melodramatic' or deceitful. He and John weren't deceiving the Doctor in a sense, but Rose was, and Sherlock wanted to get to the bottom of it before she ruined everything and betrayed him. However, he couldn't ask Rose outright for she would belay him and turn the Doctor against him and John so that she wouldn't have to answer for her crime.

The Doctor was blind enough in his attraction to Rose that he couldn't see what was the matter with her and he certainly didn't have such affection for Sherlock and John. He would kick them out of the TARDIS before he ever kicked Rose out, even at this early stage of their acquaintance. Sherlock knew that he and John would have to stay on the Doctor's good side for as long as they possibly could, and so he would have to keep his eye on Rose and figure out her motivation before he presented rock-solid evidence to the Doctor that she was up to something. Even then, he would have to persuade the Doctor to believe it and hope that the Time Lord was smart enough to realize the truth. Good luck with that.

"Boys and their toys, even with different species it remains the same." Sherlock remarked.

"Don't you have a few toys that you like?" John asked.

"I am not immune to that either." Sherlock sighed, almost disappointed with himself for such foolishness, but then he smirked when John laughed. Let the man have his humor, Sherlock was willing to indulge John there.

But as the Doctor and Rose babbled about the New Roman Empire, Sherlock rolled his eyes. "Forwards, backwards in time, it doesn't matter, just pick a time and place!" Sherlock shouted at them, startling the others and causing the Doctor to frown at him. He didn't care where or when they wound up, just as long as they got out of the TARDIS in a different time and place from where they had been. He wanted to explore and see the universe, dammit! He wasn't going to wait around here in the TARDIS for them to settle down and stop playing.

"Sherlock, behave." John hissed, feeling embarrassed that Sherlock was already acting out and they hadn't even gone anyplace or anywhen yet. They had to be nice to their bunkmates on here, especially the driver. Who knew when or where they would be getting off this thing? And hopefully they wouldn't be marooned far away from home in a different time, if the Doctor felt so inclined.

"All right, Mr. Sherlock Holmes, Miss Rose Tyler, and Dr. John Watson," The Doctor said, enunciating their names with disdain, affection, and curiosity in that order, according to his feelings for them. "You want to go someplace, somewhen new and different? I've got one just for you."

Both Sherlock and John shivered, one in anticipation and the other in fear, as the Doctor's TARDIS was set in motion and then they stopped. The Doctor didn't answer Rose's or Sherlock's questions, and so they both left the TARDIS as quickly as possible. John stood there for a moment longer, though, just staring at the TARDIS door and trying to catch his breath in preparation for stepping out onto an alien world in a different time. He wanted this moment to be etched onto his mind forever.

"Coming, John? Dr. Watson? What should I call you?" The Doctor asked, glancing over at Sherlock's friend that he had not gotten to know very well, aside from what Sherlock had said or implied about him.

Of course, for part of that time, John hadn't been around and then had been made of plastic, but nonetheless, the Doctor felt like he should make some kind of effort to get to know John, especially when Sherlock seemed to care about him and from what little he could tell, Sherlock hardly cared about anyone else. So there had to be something special about John in Sherlock's mind, even if it was for ordinary reasons and ways. John might be key to understanding or reining in Sherlock from time to time and the Doctor wanted to have him handy and on his side, just in case. Plus there was something about John that seemed innocent and lost all at the same time, something sort of precious that couldn't be easily replaced or found in this universe. The Doctor had lost that quality in himself long ago, yet he cherished it, even though he might have to destroy it.

"John is fine, and I'm definitely coming." John said, nodding, and followed after him as they left the TARDIS.

"Look at the décor, definitely not Earth-based from the 21st century." Sherlock remarked to himself, examining the walls as Rose gazed all around. "It has an earth-like tone and design to them, but the materials are completely different. Flexible and durable, not elastic. Faux marble and wood…"

"Gorgeous place." John said to himself, glancing back at the Doctor and mumbling a quiet 'sorry' on Sherlock's behalf.

"Don't mention it." The Doctor told John, and grinned. "And this isn't even half of it." With that said, he went to an electronic display by the door and started fiddling with it using his special device.

"I want that sonic screwdriver." Sherlock muttered to himself as John's head whipped toward him, recognizing the tone. Batten down the hatches, man the port valve, Sherlock was in pirate mode.

"Fat chance of you getting or using it." The Doctor said, annoyed the man would be so presumptuous, as Sherlock arched an eyebrow.

"Challenge accepted." Sherlock said with an acquisitive gleam in his eyes as John groaned to himself, knowing that Sherlock would not rest until he acquired what he so desired and almost always, he got his way. Half the time, though, John wished Sherlock was so acquisitive towards himself. It might feel nice, after all, to be needed and wanted by the world's great consulting detective.

However, John's thoughts were stilled and even Sherlock became quiet and contemplative as the screen lowered before them, revealing the earth. They were in space, looking down upon their home planet, and it was beautiful. All of the humans' breaths stopped, overwhelmed by the sight, as the Doctor came down and stood beside Rose, talking about death and survival. Sherlock frowned to himself and gripped John's hand, realizing that something was amiss here in the Doctor's behavior and actions, and he was proved right.

Sherlock stiffened in shock, trying to consume his emotions as he inhaled sharply, his grip tightening on John as he saw and felt the earth dying so close to them. It was a cruel trick for the Doctor to play on them. He would have none of this, especially with John around. John didn't deserve such ill treatment or abuse of his sensibility.

John gasped, taking it all in and feeling Sherlock's hand in his as the sun expanded ever closer to them and consuming the earth in fire. John processed the news that it was the end of the world, yet five billion years into the future-it seemed so far away, and yet here they were at this moment, all of Earth's future gone in an instance and they were standing here, facing its death together. It seemed heart-breaking and loving all at the same time, especially with Sherlock by his side, something that they but few others could ever experience.

Rose was stunned as well, but the Doctor seemed amused or at least intrigued by all of their reactions, studying them closely. The Doctor was surprised most of all by how visibly John and Sherlock reacted and were affected in different ways, Sherlock most of all. He had not imagined that Sherlock would be so moved by the earth's death, although the consulting detective hid and bottled up his emotions so well behind a veil of logic and reasoning that it was hard, even for a Time Lord, to read him.

And the Doctor very dearly wanted to get to know and understand the mysterious, inscrutable detective, because he liked a good mystery just as much as Sherlock did. And it would have to take something very strong to shake and affect the detective, like John being made of plastic or most notably earth's death in this moment, so that Sherlock could reveal his thoughts and feelings to the Time Lord. So far, what little the Doctor had gleamed about Sherlock Holmes intrigued him even more. There was a real human being inside him, and perhaps something more.

"What is this?" Sherlock asked, turning to face the Doctor after a moment. "Why have you brought us here? There is a reason you are showing this to us, you want to prove a point or demonstrate that—what? We are incapable of escaping a fixed point in time, an ultimate fate? That death and decay is inevitable and nothing, not even our own planet, will last forever? What is the point then of love, music, or anything at all?" Sherlock whispered. "Surely we can figure that one out on our own." John in particular seemed devastated by Sherlock's last pronouncement. If Sherlock felt this way, that there was no point to anything, then maybe he might never be interested in John at all in a meaningful way.

The Doctor frowned. "That's not the point. And there is always a point in love, music, or anything in life, including death." He exhaled, surprised at even himself. Sherlock and John seemed to bring something out of him. They heard an announcement about Platform 1, where they were, and guests, so the Doctor, in as cheerful a tone as he could manage, quickly said, "Come on, let's get some refreshments and meet the others," before Sherlock or John could say something more. He strode off with Sherlock, John, and Rose following after him as Rose started to ask the Doctor about people.

Sherlock sighed and rolled his eyes to himself. "People wherever you go in time and space," but he didn't question the Doctor again for the moment as he sensed that he had hit a nerve with the Doctor. There was a point for why the Doctor had brought them here and he was going to find out about it.

"Do you believe that there isn't a point?" John asked Sherlock.

"What? Of course there is, John." Sherlock was still thinking about this case with the Doctor, but John was relieved enough to think that Sherlock was referring to existentialism.

Sherlock was intrigued and amused by the Doctor's description of the purpose of Platform 1, typical behavior of the rich to preserve and then destroy things for pleasure, which seemed somewhat pointless in and of itself. Although he paused a moment to consider Rose's equivocation that the Doctor was going to try saving the Earth. It might be like the Doctor to try such a thing and if there was a point for being here that didn't have anything to do with the death of the Earth—but no, the Doctor wouldn't save the Earth this time around, despite the many times that he had in the past. Apparently, this was the true end of the earth, so what was the point of being here?

"I suppose we had a good go of it, didn't we?" John asked the Doctor as Rose talked about being the only humans left.

"You might say that." The Doctor told John before the Host arrived and accosted them. Sherlock tried to think of some excuse for why they were here so that they could stay, but nothing came to him in this strange, alien situation. However, the Doctor had some sort of invite for all of them.

"Not going to get us kicked out of here, are you?" Sherlock asked the Doctor, referring to John and himself, intrigued.

"No, wouldn't dream of it. You two boys are included here in whatever we do." The Doctor said, turning to face Sherlock. "I want you both to see this as well." So that was a point, then? Another step closer to the truth.


	6. Shoot Sherlock!

I loved writing this chapter, really gave me a chance to show off and play around with the story, changing and adding in some plot elements and writing jokes-the puns, oh, the puns. I used to read this web comic, Oracle for Hire, and at one point there were a bunch of tree puns in there...yeah, something along those lines. (And "Shoot Sherlock"? I do occasionally say that in real life. I just had to get that in somewhere.)

* * *

Around then, as the Doctor and Rose talked to each other, the Host went up to a podium and introduced all of the guests in attendance as they entered the meeting room with Sherlock's and John's eyes widening in excitement at their first real sight of aliens in all of their variety. As the Forest of Cheem trees entered the room, Sherlock observed the distinguishing characteristics of their visible vegetation in relation to Earth trees and quoted a Latin name, half wondering if there was any relation.

That Tree whipped his head around to stare at Sherlock. "Have you studied old Earth botany?"

"I took a course." Sherlock fibbed and the Tree nodded, moving on as John gaped at Sherlock, impressed in spite of himself. Both fellows almost thought that Sherlock would get a whack in the jaw if he had made some crude error. "Is the Moxx of Balhoon a ceremonial title?" Sherlock asked the Doctor soon after.

"Yes and no." The Doctor told him, not elaborating.

"Financial Family Seven? Adherents of the Repeated Meme?" John repeated to himself, shaking his head when they entered. "Sounds like a gag. Are they a cult or a corporation? Mixture of both?"

"Something like that." The Doctor frowned to himself as more people or aliens kept coming in. "Might be a shell corporation or a giant galactic hedge fund. There are a few of those hedge funds still around, worth bajillions upon bajillions, maybe even a galazinga."

John's eyes boggled. "Like a galaxy worth of wealth? Gordon Bennett."

"I know, a shame." The Doctor shook his head.

"I wish I had so much, or even a fraction of a fraction of a fraction worth of that." Rose murmured to herself.

Sherlock frowned to himself. "So many of the universe's wealthiest gathered on one platform, one station suspended in space? Sounds like a recipe for disaster. I can smell murder and mystery just around the corner."

"Adventure, too?" Rose asked.

"Possibly." Sherlock said.

"Please don't say that. Haven't we had enough murder and mystery for one day?" John frowned to himself. "Is it still the same day since we met the Autons?"

"I believe so from our personal perspectives." Sherlock remarked.

"Can you really smell murder and mystery?" The Doctor asked.

"He thinks he can. He almost has me believing him." John remarked.

"What? Can't you?" Sherlock asked the others. John shook his head, Rose laughed, and the Doctor didn't respond as the Forest of Cheem approached with their gift of peace. The Doctor got a positive response with his gift, causing Sherlock, John, and Rose to smirk.

"What are those? Seeds of affection? Budding growth of love?" Sherlock asked.

"Talk about a breath of re-leaf." John said. "A breath of life to the tree of life?"

"Oh, leaf him alone, John. Tree-t him with respect." Sherlock said.

"Oh, yew're poplar with the alders, aren't yew?" Rose added, getting into the act.

"Oh, cork it." The Doctor muttered, causing the others to bawl and he groaned. "Trunk off!"

"Don't make him pine or oak for sap-athy." Sherlock said.

"Yeah, trim his enthusi-ashm. Never did meet a plant he didn't leaf." Rose added, laughing.

"Woody kindling stop messing about?" The Doctor asked as the Host started to announce 'From the Silver Devastation…'

"I think we're going overboard on this." John said.

"I agree. Can't we branch out a little?" Sherlock asked. "Stop larching around?"

"Shoot Sherlock!" John shouted, almost overpowering the Host's introduction of the Face of Boe. They got a few stares from some of the other guests, although the Face of Boe seemed to laugh and that levied the mood a little bit.

When the Moxx of Balhoon came over and spit on Rose, Sherlock, and John in turn with the Doctor smiling and thanking the Moxx, Sherlock disdainfully wiped off the spittle and muttered, "I have no response to that." The Moxx growled at him and the others before wheeling off.

The Doctor frowned at Sherlock. "I think you've offended him."

"My apologies, I don't know anything about the cultural courtesies or the social niceties for this era." Sherlock said. "I may need a primer."

"Or any era. He never does know them," John said, shaking his head. "Five billion years in the future or past, and if we ever gave him a primer, he might never read it."

"We oak to spruce yew up a little." Rose told Sherlock.

"Shut up." Sherlock muttered as the Adherents of the Repeated Meme came over and offered them a gift in the form of a metal sphere.

He studied them as intently as he could, but could see nothing beyond their black ceremonial robes. That was the thing, it got so much harder for Sherlock to deduce even simple things from people's appearances when completely removed from their cultural contexts. Five billion years in the future with another species was about as far removed as one could get. However, part of Sherlock knew that some things had to be universal, true on other planets as they were on Earth, even if they were so far removed. He just had to figure out what was universal.

"Oh, what's that?" John asked, staring at the sphere in the Doctor's hands. "Is it worth a fortune?"

"Probably some crab-apple junk." The Doctor said and grimaced to himself, tossing it over to Rose. "Yew'll keep it."

"May I have that?" Sherlock asked her. "Since you got the tree cutting?"

"Oak-kay, sure," Rose said, grinning as she handed it over to Sherlock before she sobered up. "It doesn't suit me. I wood rather have this tree cutting, seeing as how it's a living thing from Earth or somewhere. That metal sphere is just too cold and spherical for me."

"I think it rather suits me," Sherlock said, hefting the sphere and examining it. "I would like to take a closer look at it. See if there's something inside. It seems too heavy to be entirely hollow."

"Don't go destroying another gift, Sherlock." John told him.

"I intend to examine it carefully. I won't break it." Sherlock said as Rose laughed.

"Suit yourself." Rose shrugged, and listened and watched in astonishment as they announced the last living human, the Lady Cassandra.

"Skin on a trampoline?" John asked, gaping at the sight as Sherlock grimaced. "Is that how we humans wind up, five billion years in the future? Skin on a trampoline?" John asked again, turning to the Doctor. "Like Sherlock said, if that's the future of human evolution, then what is the point to it all? No thank you to being the last human above the planet Earth. Sucks to be her, I bet."

"Human evolution is much more complex than that, and there is a point to it all." The Doctor said, trying to reassure both John and Sherlock. "Skin on a trampoline is how she wound up, but that's because she chose to remain completely human and didn't change. Not all humans wound up looking like that. Humanity doesn't die out or remain stagnant, it changes and morphs into new life-forms. There are various, hundreds of humanoid forms, formats, descendants and relatives out there. Skin on a trampoline is the least of your troubles and worries."

"Good to hear." John breathed a sigh of relief. Sherlock and John laughed at the artifacts the Lady Cassandra showed the assembled crowd, but then Rose ran out of the room, overcome by it all and the Doctor ran after her. John hesitated, glancing at Sherlock. "Should we follow after them?"

"Do you insist?" Sherlock asked. When John nodded, Sherlock sighed and said, "Come on," hurrying after them.

"Did that Tree just scan him?" John asked Sherlock as they passed by—what was her name? Jabe? She seemed to be interested in the Doctor.

"Probably. What was that?" Sherlock paused, glancing back into the party room and frowning to himself as he clutched the sphere close to him.

He thought he had seen something odd moving in the corner, but he wasn't sure. He shook his head, thinking the alienness of the situation was even getting to him, and went after John and the others. Sherlock, however, did not notice that he was being watched by the Face of Boe, difficult as it was to discern the expression on that giant face trapped in a semi-translucent jar. John, however, had gotten lost and took a wrong turn, so Sherlock had to go after him first. He spotted John in the middle of a hallway, next to an open vent.

"That's funny." John said, frowning as he bent down to look inside.

"Don't stick your nose in there, John." Sherlock said, startling John, who hit his head on the top of the vent. "You don't know what you are going to find."

"Like a scrap of…blue skin?" John asked, indicating something inside the vent.

Sherlock grabbed John and bodily moved him to the side as he bent down to examine the piece of evidence inside the vent. "You're correct. It does look like blue skin, much like that of the workers and the Host who manage this event. And it appears to be ripped and bloody, if this can be called blood. I believe someone is either severely wounded or possibly murdered. John, I need baggies and a tweezers for evidence." He laid the sphere to the side, prepared to perform a full examination.

"I'm not carrying any with me at the moment. I didn't expect that we would be investigating a crime scene when we left home yesterday. Unless that was still today." John frowned to himself. "Time travel is confusing."

"Surely there are some in my laptop—where is my laptop bag, John?" Sherlock asked, looking up at his friend.

"I left it-oh my god." John gasped.

Sherlock stood up and glared at his friend. "You left it where, John? This is vitally important. That information on there, should it fall into the wrong hands, may leak-"

"Mickey's car, Rose's boyfriend, I left the laptop bag in Mickey's car just before we were all turned into Autons." John said.

Sherlock groaned. "Mickey the idiot. Maybe he won't be able to hack into my laptop, but maybe he might or he might know a friend. I need to get my laptop back before then. We need to return home as soon as possible."

"What about the evidence? Someone could be hurt or dead." John said, looking down and gaping at something on the ground. "What is that mechanoid spider thing?"

"What are you talking-" Sherlock turned around just in time to glimpse the mechanical spider scurrying in through the vent. "Something shady is going on." He briefly noted the open sphere before Sherlock bent down to see the mechanoid spider grabbing the piece of blue skin and dragging it off. "Stop, that's evidence!"

The mechanoid spider turned around, a red light aimed directly at Sherlock, and out of instinct, Sherlock pulled himself out of there and pushed John away as a pulse of energy discharged from the spider, scorching the wall opposite the vent opening. Sherlock and John fled, not waiting around to get shot at again.

"It's the sphere!" John gasped, realizing something was missing here. "The spider came from the sphere!"

"Clever!" Sherlock shouted. "Give all of the guests mechanoid spiders programmed to destroy and decimate guests-"

"But it didn't fire at us until you threatened it or tried to stop it." John said.

"Exactly, even better. The mechanoid spiders must have some other purpose, possibly to destroy, decimate, and sabotage operations here on this space station, only turning on guests or other workers who try to stop them." Sherlock said.

"But that means—Earth is about to die, to be swallowed up by solar flares, and we are stuck here on this doomed space station in the middle of it all." John said, slowing down to a stop.

"You're right about that, John." Sherlock frowned to himself, pausing to turn around and face John. "This space station must have some kind of shielding, possibly a cooling system, powerful enough in normal circumstances to stop us from being destroyed by these solar flares. But if that system is jeopardized or destroyed, then there's nothing stopping us from being destroyed. We've walked right into a trap, the perfect murder spree of the richest people in the universe."

John gaped at Sherlock. "What in hell are we going to do here? We're doomed!"

"You're wrong, John. We will find the Doctor and Rose, solve the situation here root out the trouble with the Doctor's help, and get back home as soon as possible!" Sherlock cried, running off again. "I need my laptop back!"

"Not everything is about you!" John shouted back at him, racing after him again. Suddenly, the whole space station shook, startling John and Sherlock and unbalancing them. "What was that?" John shouted, trying to stabilize himself. "Have those spiders gotten at some gravity support system? Are we losing orbit?"

"No, I don't know, I'm not some space engineer, John." Sherlock said, straightening himself out as well. "I think we're safe enough for now, but yes, I think that could be a result of the spiders' messing about with the systems."

John groaned. "This is a hell of a mess."

"What do you want me to say? We'll get out of it, don't worry. Trust me." Sherlock smiled at him as best he could.

"Don't patronize me. I want to believe you, but you're not exactly reassuring me and you're not in any more control of it than I am." John said. "Let's just go find the Doctor and Rose."

Sherlock and John started running off again, but apparently they made a big loop as they heard the Doctor and Rose talking and found them back in the meeting room, only this time all of the guests were agitated and upset about the 'gravity pocket', according to the Host's announcement, but not even the guests were buying that. John looked around at the wait staff and shivered, half thinking to himself that they looked like armed and armored soldiers waiting to fire on the crowd if they got any more anxious. Of course, in reality, their 'guns' were really trays, but nonetheless, this situation really had John on edge.

"Doctor!" Sherlock shouted, causing the Doctor and Rose to turn and face them, and Sherlock dropped his voice even lower as he approached so that only John, the Doctor, and Rose could hear him at this point. He certainly did not want to cause a panic at this moment and the Adherents of the Repeated Meme were still in the room, so if they were aware that their plans had gone awry, they would surely unleash the full deadly force of those mechanical spiders. It might well be a massacre at that point.

"It's sabotage. The Adherents of the Repeated Meme have given us all the means of our own destruction. Mechanical spiders have been snuck onboard this space station inside each of those spheres and they seem programmed to sabotage all important, life-sustaining components onboard this space station, killing anyone who gets in their way." Sherlock said.

"Ah." The Doctor said, slowly nodding as Rose's eyes boggled in shock and horror. "I thought there was something up with those spiders I saw crawling on the walls before."

"You've stumped me." Sherlock said.

"You've seen them?" John said. "And you didn't say?"

"I only saw them a few minutes ago, on my way to finding Rose and parking the TARDIS." The Doctor said. "I didn't know what they were, but-" He reached into his pocket and removed his sonic screwdriver and a penlight. "I took a quick scan of their signal before they scurried away, same as that Tree Jabe scanned me earlier." He shook his sonic screwdriver. "Did it as inconspicuously as possible before they knew what I was doing, while I pretended I didn't even see them." He winked and pointed his sonic screwdriver at the penlight, buzzing the bigger device at the smaller device. "My sonic screwdriver has done a quick configuration and found out how to deactivate the spiders' signal. It should render them inert within a given radius. The problem is the danger they've already wrought, which won't be so easily deactivated."

"Brilliant." Sherlock said, staring at the sonic screwdriver and desiring it even more.

"I know. Here you go," The Doctor said, handing over the penlight to Sherlock. "I copied the deactivation signal on here, all it can do, really. It's a bug light now. I'm designating you the bug exterminator. Go around, buzz that bug light, and any spiders within the vicinity should be deactivated."

"Glorified bug exterminator? That's it?" Sherlock asked, handing the bug light to John instead. "What about you, Doctor? Where are you going?"

"I'm going to the engine rooms to see if I can't figure out what sort of trouble the bugs have caused and if I can fix it." The Doctor said. "The full extent of the damage won't show up on any scan anymore, the computer systems themselves might be compromised. I have to go in person and see. The rest of you, stay here." He ordered, walking off.

"I'm coming with you, Doctor. John, you take care of the bugs." Sherlock told his friend, following after the Doctor.

John frowned, glaring at the bug light and muttered, "You think I want to be a glorified bug exterminator, too?" He sighed and said, "Rose, do you want to come with me?"

Rose shook her head. "No, I want to talk with Lady Cassandra, the last human. I want to give her a piece of my mind and find out a little more about her, the birch." Rose grinned.

John glanced over at her and said, "Why? Do you think she's involved with this, too?"

"I'm not sure." Rose said, staring at John. "I just want a word."

"Be careful, Rose. You don't know what you're dealing with here." John told her, clasping Rose's shoulder.

"I can handle myself." Rose wiggled away from him. "Now go on, protect us all with your trusty bug light. Zap some spiders for me." She laughed, heading over to Lady Cassandra.

"All right, all right," John muttered, walking off with his trusty bug light in hand, all alone now. "Bonsai." He muttered.


	7. Chestnut Roasting

As soon as they left, however, the Doctor and Sherlock realized they had no idea how to reach the engine room. "There's an access shaft just behind my guest quarters." They heard a voice say, and turned around to face Jabe, who had apparently followed them out of the meeting room and overheard them talking. "If you would like, I could show you."

Sherlock and the Doctor glanced at each and shrugged, agreeing, so the Tree led the way. Sherlock thought she was harmless enough, enamored of the Doctor, perhaps. When they reached the access shaft, she asked to come along with them. "Doctor, surely we can do without her?" Sherlock insisted. "She's a liability."

"I am not a liability, and who are you? His companion? His mate? His concubine?" She asked, causing Sherlock to gape at her and the Doctor to laugh.

"Come along, Jabe, we can do with someone like you." The Doctor said, entering the shaft.

"Canopy with us." Sherlock muttered.

"Of course I can." Jabe said, smiling as she gracefully entered the access shaft. The Doctor questioned her about who ran Platform One as Sherlock moped along behind them. For a moment, as the Doctor talked about Titanic and how 'fantastic' it was that there was no to help them out here, Sherlock thought he spotted a spider. He frowned and kept going, hoping John was doing his job well.

"Why don't you build her a treehouse?" Sherlock muttered to himself as the Doctor and Jabe talked about her wealth and the tropical rainforest.

Then they stopped as the Doctor tried to access the engine room and Jabe questioned the Doctor, saying something about 'nothing else left' and knowing where he was from. Sherlock frowned to himself, wondering if she was referring to the war the Doctor had just been in. A war in which a planet—Sherlock gasped as he realized that it was the Doctor's planet, just as his, John's, and Rose's planet was about to be destroyed right now by the swelling sun. The Doctor's planet must have been destroyed in the war, and what about him? Sherlock wondered. Was he the last of his kind?

The Doctor had completely frozen and shut down, just as he did when Rose first refused to go with him, and now Sherlock could understand why. Sherlock gaped at him, horrified in spite of his usual callous demeanor, in full contemplation of the horror and grief the Doctor must have suffered through as Jabe apologized and clutched at the Doctor's leather-clad arm with her spindly, wooden fingers, finally getting a reaction out of him. The Doctor's eyes had tears in them as he turned his head to face them, but he said nothing as he touched Jabe's fingers, refusing to acknowledge her words or Sherlock's newfound knowledge otherwise before he got back to work, revitalized once more.

Sherlock turned his head away and cleared his throat, "Right, sorry," He managed to say, not looking at either one of them right now. This was getting more complicated than he could ever have imagined, if he had such feelings of sympathy for the Doctor so soon after meeting him.

"Don't mention it." The Doctor added to both of them as Sherlock and Jabe both nodded. They finally entered the engine room and marveled at this piece of engineering.

"I'm not an expert here, but it doesn't look like anything is wrong." Sherlock managed to say. "It hasn't overheated."

"No, the damage hasn't reached the engine room yet, and if we're lucky, it won't." The Doctor said, remarking on the 'retro' as he headed to the control panel, still in a bad mood after Jabe's reminder of the destruction of his planet, like he needed it when he was reminded of it every damn second of his life.

And now Sherlock had worked it out when he wasn't supposed to know, damn detective, and now the Doctor would have to deal with him and John and then Rose knowing about what he had to do, because Sherlock wouldn't shut up about it, would he? No, he would blab about it to the others, the great detective had solved another problem. The Doctor could already tell it was going to happen, the question was when and how they would react. He feared their disgust, horror, and sympathy, especially Rose. He didn't want her looking at him with that knowledge and he didn't want to deal with her or the others.

"Hopefully John takes care of the spiders." The Doctor muttered. However, as he ripped off the control panel to check it out, one of the spiders skittered out. "Damn things." The Doctor tried to knock it out with his sonic screwdriver, but Jabe got it with her liana. The Doctor incapacitated it, and both he and Sherlock examined the device to figure out exactly where it had come from.

"What about the manufacturing?" Sherlock said, uncertain about the Doctor's reaction in full awareness of his distemper. "Can you tell anything?"

"Fairly simple, cobbled-together piece of technology." The Doctor muttered to himself, not really wanting to talk to Sherlock at this point, but he didn't have much of a choice. The detective was smart as apes went, and he might have some insight into this mess. "The programming wired into it is slightly more complex, but pretty commonplace at this point in time."

"So anyone could have done it, like the Adherents of the Repeated Meme." Sherlock said, relaxing slightly, certain that they were the culprits still.

"Well, to do so on an elaborate scale, so many spiders working together and separately, requires some serious funds to produce, but yes, anyone can do it." The Doctor said, glancing up at him. Sherlock felt a chill in his bones. "Of course, if they were incredibly wealthy, like a zillionaire or a galazingaer, none of this would have been necessary. They could have sabotaged Platform One by more elaborate, complex, costlier means. So no, I don't think a real group from Financial Family Seven would have resorted to this."

"So they're fakes? Not a group of zillionaires, nor the richest persons here, but some people who might stand to gain a profit from this enterprise." Sherlock said, nodding. "Of course, that makes sense. But who are they then?"

"Not just fakes, but too obvious. I think this is set-up, a sham, a gag, a shell game." The Doctor said, tossing the spider at Sherlock. "We need to find the real culprits. Come on!" He stormed out of the engine room.

"Well, who are they, then?" Sherlock asked, exasperated as he and Jabe followed the Doctor heading back to the meeting room, probably to confront the others. He started listing the names of all the guests here on Platform One, but the Doctor dismissed most of them out of hand, still considering the possibilities of others.

"I'm impressed you can remember so many." Jabe said. Sherlock shrugged as they came across the Steward's office and discovered he had been roasted—the Doctor quickly checked out the problem and pointed out another descender coming down.

"Who puts in sun-filters that can descend? Isn't the whole point-let's go check it out." Sherlock said, frustrated and worried as the two of them rushed off while Jabe went to warn the others in the meeting room of the sabotage.

A little while earlier, John wandered along the corridors of Platform One; every couple of feet, he pressed the sonic penlight button, which emitted a pulse and, occasionally, he heard the slightly satisfying but also disturbing sound of an electrical shriek and burst. Another mechanical spider dead, but also an indication of how many had infected the inner workings of this space station, sabotaging vital components. And throughout, with no one else around to talk to, he kept muttering to himself, "'John, do you want to be a glorified bug zapper? No, I do not. Well, here you go, have fun and play nice while I go run after the Doctor, ta!' Christ, Sherlock, why do I put up with you?" John sighed to himself. "Why do I even bother?"

He turned a corner and stopped, finding himself face-to-hood with the Adherents of the Repeated Meme. "Christ, you could give a guy a heart attack!" John said, trying to act natural and friendly, but already afraid as to why they were here. One of them reached out to grab him and before John could really think, he reacted by pressing the sonic penlight button. At that point, the Adherent reacted, short-circuiting with a shriek and jerking about, hands clamping at nothing. "Christ, robots! You're just like those spiders!" John laughed, but the sonic penlight wasn't as effective with these larger robots as they were with the smaller ones. The others, being too far out of range, were moving forward, so John kept clicking as he started to run away and the Adherents pursued him.

A door opened near an end of a corridor and John ran in, not realizing that he was going into one of those damn observation rooms and a dead end until it was too late and then the door was closing right behind him. "Oh, no." John said, turning back around and pounding on the door as he shouted, "Let me out!"

"John?" He heard Rose's voice and turned around, seeing her lying on the floor below, as if she was just waking up.

"Are you hurt?" John asked, concerned as he came down to check her out. "Nasty bump on the head you got there. Let me guess, the Adherents of the Repeated Meme? They're robots, you know, just like the spiders."

"Really?" Her eyes widened. "I had an argument with Lady Cassandra and I might have insulted her and told her I was the last human." Rose said, grimacing as John gazed at her in shock. "That probably made her angry. And then the Adherents got me, so…I guess it's her, then. She's programmed the robots."

"Wow, unbelievable. Sherlock was so convinced-" John started to say, but then they were blinded by the sunlight with the filter descending. John and Rose rushed to the door, screaming and pounding, and they soon heard the Doctor and Sherlock outside. Sherlock was starting to panic, realizing what was going on, but the Doctor was working as quickly and calmly as he could with the sonic screwdriver and Sherlock knew it was best not to bother him in his disturbed state. However, he still wanted a sonic screwdriver if he could have helped.

"Sherlock, it's Lady Cassandra!" John shouted, convinced this might be his last breath and he wanted to give out a final warning. "The Adherents are robots like the spiders. We think she's controlling them-"

"No, John, you are not going to die!" Sherlock shouted back at him. "We are doing this together-" Finally, the Doctor fixed the problem with the sun-filter, much to the relief of everyone else, until it malfunctioned again. "What did you do!" Sherlock shouted at the Doctor now.

The Doctor, who had been trying to stay calm, was panicking as well with Rose and John trapped and dying, babbling about the computer fighting back. "If you kill John, so help me, nowhere in the universe is safe for you." Sherlock insisted.

"Trust me, nowhere is safe." The Doctor managed to say, fully convinced that he was cursed. At last, the sun-filter rose again and seemed to stay there, although he still couldn't get them out.

"We've got to get Lady Cassandra." Sherlock said. "She's the one responsible for this." Sherlock ran off, with the Doctor following to confront Lady Cassandra, leaving John and Rose alone and trapped.

"Now what are we going to do?" John asked, depressed.

Rose held out a thumbs-up. "I declare a thumb war." John sighed and with little choice left, participated in the childish game to satisfy Rose. "Beech ya!" Rose laughed after a minute.

"Hawthorn me another opportunity." John said, getting into it.

Sherlock raved and threatened Lady Cassandra as the Doctor and Jabe held him back from killing her. Security stepped forward to arrest him, but the Doctor tried to make a reasoned appeal and prove that she was guilty, offering the spider as testimony and proving the Adherents were robots. However, security still couldn't stop Lady Cassandra from teleporting out of there and the remaining spiders from exploding, damaging their shields. Sherlock groaned and felt like tearing out his hair in frustration, but there was no time left as the Doctor had to go reset the computer in the engine room. Sherlock and Jabe raced after him to help.

"You made things worse." Jabe insisted, blaming Sherlock. "You could have been more diplomatic like the Doctor-"

"He prattled on for too long! I was trying to be useful and help John and Rose!" Sherlock said. "Besides, he hasn't always been diplomatic-"

"Will you please shut up!" The Doctor shouted back at Sherlock, knowing where he was going with that and not wanting to get involved in a discussion of the war right now. They reached the engine room, hotter than ever before, and Sherlock cursed up a storm at learning the reset switch was on the other side of a bunch of swirling blades.

"Who designed this ship?" Sherlock shouted. "They must be a madman!"

"Shut up, I'm thinking!" The Doctor shouted back at him, calculating the speed of the blades and then turning back around, finding the switch that slowed down the blades, but it wouldn't stay down.

"I'll hold it, just go!" Sherlock shouted at him, grabbing the switch. Jabe tried to help, but Sherlock shouted at her, "Get out of here, birch! Or you'll be a chestnut roasting on an open fire with me!" Jabe panicked and fled without a word as the Doctor stared at Sherlock in horror. "Go, Time Lord." Sherlock said. The Doctor nodded and hurried, trying to avoid the swirling blades. Sherlock gasped, struggling to maintain hold and pressure on a red-hot piece of metal in a sweltering oven with the temperature rising to the surface of the sun.

"Orchard glad I didn't say banana?" John said, finishing up a joke in an effort to get Rose to laugh, when the room started burning all around them and the glass cracking. "It's been nice knowing you and the Doctor." John managed to say, grimacing as he wished—no, it was better than Sherlock wasn't here, even though he missed him.

"You and Sherlock as well." Rose said, gripping his hand as they both closed their eyes.

"Good-bye, John." Sherlock whispered, sweating profusely as he sagged, feeling like his moist, then desert-dry hands were already burning and about to give up their hold, but he was still maintaining as much pressure as he possibly could on the switch.

Finally, his hands slipped off and he collapsed, landing hard on the floor. For a moment, it felt like a cool breeze was blowing…Sherlock closed his eyes, prepared to breathe his last, when suddenly he heard someone shouting. He stirred and opened his eyes; it was a lot less brighter and hotter in here than it was before. In fact, it was as cold as it was when he, the Doctor, and Jabe first entered the engine room. He looked up at footsteps to see the Doctor wearily and sadly staring down at him.

"You all right?" The Doctor managed to say.

"A shower. A lap in your pool." Sherlock wheezed. "Cool, crisp, water—no. Ice. Lots of ice in your pool and shower. Can you do this for me?"

"Course I can. It's not every day you nearly burn yourself to death trying to save complete strangers." The Doctor said, bending down to help Sherlock up. "At least if you're not me."

"That's right." Sherlock coughed as they limped out of the engine room and back to the meeting room. "I deserve some thanks." The Doctor rolled his eyes.

After a minute, Rose and John opened their eyes to see the window repairing itself. Everything had stopped burning. They were feeling better now, breathing heavily in some relief. They managed to get out of the observation room and slowly made their way back, in time to meet the Doctor and Sherlock. John rushed forward to check on and take care of his friend, who looked like he was nearly burned half to death, while the Doctor went to check on Jabe and the other Trees, thanking her for helping them out. Jabe nodded, concerned about Sherlock, but said nothing more as the Doctor found a way to summon back Lady Cassandra.

Despite his condition, Sherlock watched with interest as Lady Cassandra was confronted by the Doctor and then she dried out—to the point of death and exploding into a bunch of pieces. Rose had appealed to the Doctor, despite the suffering Lady Cassandra had caused, because she couldn't bear to see someone suffer and die this way, but the Doctor insisted it was for the best.

John gagged slightly as the Doctor left, but Sherlock said, "It's what she deserved. The last human who caused so much death and destruction…is that what he thinks he deserves?"

"What? You mean the Doctor?" John asked as Rose wandered off as well, the two of them left alone for now.

"Sherlock? John? Are you two all right?" The two men heard a mysterious voice say, and they turned around to gape at the Face of Boe, staring down at them from his tank.

"Yes, we are, all things considered." Sherlock said, frowning as he stared at him. "Do we know you?"

"Not yet, but you will." The Face of Boe said, slowly nodding. "Just be careful, you two, and watch out for the Doctor and Rose as well. I worry that they are at a vulnerable place in their lives. How things settle out…well, only time will tell."

"What about us?" John asked, curious. "How do things fare between me and Sherlock?"

The Face of Boe grinned. "It'll be dangerous, but I think you two will make it…barely."

"Thank you for being so mysterious." Sherlock muttered.

"You're quite welcome. Have pleasant dreams, good night." The Face of Boe said, turning away from them.

"Good night?" Sherlock said, sitting up and staring at him. "With the sun burning so bright?"

"I do feel tired." John admitted. "We haven't slept in a while, since this whole thing began. Let's go find the TARDIS and see if we can't find a bed."

"A bed." Sherlock muttered, thinking as John helped him up and they limped off in search of the TARDIS. "Thank you, Face of Boe."

"What?" John said as they reunited with the Doctor and Rose, also heading for the TARDIS.

"Doctor, could we have a bedroom?" Sherlock asked as they entered the TARDIS.

The Doctor hesitated, glancing back at them, and nodded. He gave them directions to a bedroom, Rose grinning to herself, as Sherlock and John limped off together. They found the bedroom, although John was shocked to find it had one bed as Sherlock grabbed him, kissed him, and pulled him towards the bed.

"Wait a minute, I really am tired!" John gasped, pulling away and dismaying Sherlock. "While I really do love and appreciate you, I think I'm not ready yet to jump into bed together. I'm tired, you're tired, we're both overheated and nearly died a couple of times and we both need a rest. We're partners first and foremost and I don't want to jeopardize that just yet. So let's get you settled into bed, cooled down, and then we can rest in separate rooms for now, eh?"

Sherlock slowly nodded. "If you say so, John."

He complied with the doctor's wishes, settling down into bed as John conveniently found some ice packs (thanks to the intelligent, perceptive TARDIS) and cooled down the detective to normal body temperature. John kissed the detective and bade him good-night, leaving the room to find his own next door; he collapsed onto the bed and soon started snoring.

Sherlock, uncharacteristically, found himself able to sleep for a good, long period of time, probably exhausted and drained from the past day or so of running around with the Doctor. Finally, however, Sherlock stirred and awoke, as perceptive and alert as he ever was with his memories fully intact and aware of where he was. He extracted himself from the pile of ice packs, which had long since warmed up or melted to normal temperature and felt fully capable and well again to face another day of traveling with the Doctor.

He got out of bed and walked out of the room, finding his way back to the console room easily enough, given the directions the Doctor had given to him and John last night. He found the Doctor awake, sitting back and resting on the jump seat situated next to the console. "Good morning," The Doctor said, raising his head and grinning at the detective. "And how did you sleep?"

"Uncannily well." Sherlock remarked, eying him. "Almost as if I was influenced to do so. And how did you sleep, Doctor? Or do you need sleep?"

"I don't need as much as you lot do, but I don't sleep less than you lot think you need." The Doctor said, eying Sherlock. "It would be careless of me to let my friends go for very long without sleep. I don't need them dying from exhaustion. There are too many other ways that they could meet their ends as you well know by now."

"Friends? And here I was thinking that we were nearly enemies." Sherlock remarked, catching himself from exposing the look of shock on his face. He hadn't expected the Doctor to call him or John his 'friends' ever, or at least him when he didn't have any friends, apart from John.

"Well, enemies don't help each other out, or not nearly so much as you and John have, and though you are an annoyance at times, I'm willing to forgive you if you and John help me out. I believe we have an accord of sorts." The Doctor said, smiling.

"Right, friends it is, then." Sherlock said, glancing up at the Doctor in some hesitation and unexpected pleasure. More than one friend, especially one like the Doctor, might be good. "What about you and Rose? How did things go with you two? I imagine she wasn't ready yet to go to bed, so soon after the earth exploded. John and I were too exhausted and distracted to think much about it, but I believe she was more caught up in that drama than we were. Did she recover?"

"She and I stopped off for a bit on Earth in the 21st century, just to get some perspective." The Doctor said, sighing. "We had chips and I told her. About my planet and the war."

"You were keeping that so tight in your chest." Sherlock commented, shocked. "I wouldn't have said anything if you thought that I was going to blab about that."

"No, no, it wasn't that, I just thought it was time. To tell her the truth about why I had showed her all of that." The Doctor sighed. "I needed to let her know, to let you all know, how I felt. How I still feel."

"So that was the point." Sherlock said, slowly nodding. "I kind of figured that out, after a while." He frowned. "You should have told me and John we were stopping off, though, especially if it was London in our time period, soon after the Auton invasion. I could have picked up my laptop from Mickey-"

"Mickey? Rose's boyfriend?" The Doctor grimaced. "What's so important about your laptop that you would want to do that?"

"It's got all of my case files on it, my personal information, my hacker programs and all of those UNIT and Torchwood files on you-" Sherlock listed.

"What? You left all of that valuable information with Mickey?" The Doctor gaped at Sherlock, stunned. "You really are thick. Why would you go and do a thing like that for?"

"It wasn't my fault." Sherlock said. "I left the laptop with John, who left it in Mickey's car when he and Mickey were taken by the Autons. We forgot all about it until we were on Platform One, and then we forgot it again with the sun-filters descending."

The Doctor groaned and said, "We already left 21st century Earth and London behind us, we're traveling in the Vortex again. I'm not sure if I can get us straight back there." He looked up and said, "I was going to take us to 19th century Naples, 1860 to be precise, to show—well, Rose in particular, a good time in the past. It would mean a lot to me to show her a good time."

"One quick stop there in Naples, in the past, and then back home to London in the 21st century to pick up my laptop, and then we go on again, all right?" Sherlock asked. "You sure you can get us back home soon after we left?"

The Doctor nodded. "Positive. It may not be minutes after we left Mickey behind, maybe more like hours, but yeah, I can get us back in good time."

"Good to know." Sherlock smiled. "Naples it is, then. I've never been there. Is it French?"

"Something like that, Italian." The Doctor frowned to himself, wondering if Sherlock was pulling his legs, pretending not to know where Naples was. Surely he was smart enough to know that, a fairly smart human detective like himself? Hmm, well, he was about to find out.


	8. The Hearse

Despite Sherlock's protests of not being hungry or thirsty, the Doctor coaxed him into having some tea in the TARDIS kitchen. Sherlock grumbled to himself as he slurped some of the brew and then nicked some jammie dodgers, listening to the Doctor recite a couple of exploits to him. Eventually, John stumbled into the kitchen, yawning and rubbing his eyes, wearing some new old-fashioned 19th century clothes that had inexplicably shown up in the drawers of his dresser. This included a white linen shirt with an upturned collar, a beige waistcoat the same color as his trousers, a red frock coat and a bowler hat. There was also an overcoat he was hanging onto, just in case.

With nothing else to wear since his old clothes were torn, tattered, and burned from the past couple of days, John had gone ahead and changed, not certain if this was going to stand out or fit right in with wherever and whenever they were going next, though he assumed that it had to be necessary. He blearily stared at the Doctor and Sherlock sitting together, eating, drinking, and talking, surprised at seeing Sherlock look so normal. Sherlock's eyes widened at the sight of John, admiring him before he stood up, kissed him hard on the lips, and slipped his way out the door, heading back to his own room in anticipation of finding some new clothes as well.

John blushed slightly, grinning as well at this personal reminder of how much things had changed between him and Sherlock. "So how did it go last night?" The Doctor asked, eying John with a grin.

"Nothing much happened." John managed to say, soon sitting down with a cup to drink and eat, feeling famished and thirsty. "We didn't need to jump in right away, after all, not with what we had just been through. I think it's best for us to take things slow, ease into it first. We are pretty new at this, after all, or at least I am with a man. Not sure about him." John frowned to himself, wondering if Sherlock ever had a relationship with anyone.

"Right." The Doctor nodded, silent for the most part as John ate and drank, and then Rose came in soon after, asking John the very same question in a more teasing tone.

John groaned and gave pretty much the same reply, not liking to repeat himself, as Rose laughed slightly before Sherlock returned. He was dressed in the same manner as John was, though his waistcoat and trousers were black, his frock coat was navy-blue, and he had a top hat instead. Rose joked and laughed about their clothes with Sherlock and John rolling their eyes and taking the humor in stride until the Doctor told Rose about their next destination and time period. Rose quieted down, her eyebrows rising in surprise as the two other men smirked at her, but then she gleefully smiled and hurried off to get changed as well.

The Doctor, Sherlock, and John went off to the console room, ready to land soon, although the Doctor had to hold off on materializing as he fixed up something down below. Sherlock and John watched, offering advice or asking questions, and the Doctor told them to sod off after a bit, causing them both to laugh. The Doctor emerged and asked for their help in trying to materialize, although it was way more difficult than they had imagined it would be and the other two men fell onto the floor. The Doctor shook his head, grumbling about their interference, and went back to work as Sherlock and John recovered.

Rose walked into the console room in her new dress at that point and the Doctor marveled over Rose, though he tried to disguise it, causing Sherlock to arch an eyebrow and grin with some amusement over their evasive, though obvious attachment. John frowned to himself, noticing the same thing as he wondered why the Doctor would avoid Rose. The Doctor got out of his hole once more, telling Rose that they had landed in Naples, December 24, 1860, and Rose made a great speech about being able to time travel and experience moments long past and gone, marveling over the Doctor.

Sherlock now frowned to himself, catching a sour, sad note in Rose's speech that made him wonder once more at her motivation for traveling with the Doctor—perhaps she dearly wanted to experience one of these past moments for herself before it was lost forever? What if she wanted to change or prolong one of these past moments? Could the Doctor be persuaded to help her in that regard? Sherlock didn't know the Doctor's policy on time travel and interfering in past events, but he was certain that there were limits to what even a Time Lord was allowed or could do. After all, if the Doctor could change any past event he liked, then he would surely have done all he could to save his own planet.

Rose and the Doctor were practically mooning over each other as Sherlock rolled his eyes. "Yes, and that moment is right outside those doors, waiting for us to experience it. So unless we want to go back again to this past moment, then we might as well go out now before we lose it!"

"You're hopeless." The Doctor told Sherlock as John nodded in agreement, but Rose grinned and went out on her own, experiencing that moment before the Doctor, Sherlock, and John joined her, stepping out onto the snow.

The Doctor and Rose latched arms, Sherlock and John walked side by side, close to touching, out into the Christmas Eve night, glancing around. Even Sherlock had to admit that, even aside from the coal-soaked, polluted, gaseous, shitty, and whatever else he could smell, air, the atmosphere seemed different somehow. The lights were not as bright and cheery as they used to be, so much darker and wilder as well with strange, half-hidden going-ons happening on practically every street corner and alleyway. Sherlock sort of loved it, quite different and yet not so different from 21st century London in many ways. John was intrigued as well, but he didn't question what he witnessed, he just tried to enjoy it all and soak it in with Sherlock by his side.

"I don't believe we are in the right place, though we might be in the right time frame." Sherlock said after some moments of wandering about. They heard Christmas carolers singing in the distance.

"What? Of course we are," The Doctor said, glancing back at him as Rose paused a moment to watch and listen.

"What do you mean?" John asked Sherlock, glancing at a black coach-hearse pulled up to a stop, and shivered.

"The Doctor said we are in Naples, and while I have never been there before in the past or future, I would say that this place doesn't look quite Italian or French to me." Sherlock remarked to himself, glancing at a nearby theatre. "I would say it looks almost British."

"I might agree with him." Rose remarked, disagreeable for the sake of fun.

"British?" The Doctor scoffed, shaking his head. "It's Naples, Christmas 1860, and I'll prove it to you." He walked off and purchased paper from a vendor, to confirm—Cardiff, 1869. Sherlock nearly laughed at the look of disappointment on their faces. "Shut it." The Doctor said to him before Sherlock had a chance to speak to him.

"Ah, well, I suppose he can't get everything right." John muttered to himself.

"It is disturbing, though, that the Doctor might overshoot or miss the mark when it comes to time travel, bringing us to the wrong time or place." Sherlock told John in a low voice so as not to disturb the Doctor any further. "It shouldn't be so imprecise, though he does have a rickety old machine that looks to be cobbled together out of old parts, has seen a fair share of battle, and been banged around a bit through time and space. Plus, he does have a bit of insanity and post traumatic stress."

"I'm sure we'll be fine, Sherlock." John managed to say. "We've survived a few hair-raising experiences so far and we'll probably face a whole lot more before we're done, but I think traveling to the wrong time or place could be the least of our worries!"

"I might pray you're right on that account if I believed in it." Sherlock murmured, at which point they heard screaming in the distance, coming from the direction of the theatre.

The Doctor and Rose immediately raced off towards it, with Sherlock and John close behind, ready to investigate. They managed to push and shove their way into the theatre, past the crowd running out, in time to see the ghostly figure flying about the theatre! Sherlock and John gaped at it and the Doctor raced towards the stage, babbling to the person—John turned around and gaped instead at the figure up on stage, staring at the ghost in shock and horror.

"Holy cow, it's Charles Dickens!" John cried out and laughed. "Charles Dickens on Christmas Eve with a bloody ghost—Gordon Bennet!"

"What on earth are you going on about—that woman!" Sherlock cried, running off in a different direction.

"Sherlock? Where are you going? Come back!" John shouted at him, but Sherlock had already headed out and John didn't see where he went. Rose was shouting something as well, apparently she had seen something, too, but John couldn't tell what was going on here with the crowd in the way.

"Doctor! Doctor!" John rushed over to the stage, panting and frustrated with missing out on everything. "Forget about Charles Dickens for a minute!"

"Charles Dickens?" The Doctor asked and then turned to stare- "You're right! It is Charles Dickens!" Charles Dickens blinked, still in a state of shock.

John groaned. "Sherlock and Rose have vanished! They've gone after some woman or someone that caused this ghost! Come on!"

"What about-" The Doctor paused, pointing up at the ghost, in time for them to see it being soaked up into a gaslight. John was confused by the Doctor's pronouncement that it was made of gas, but he still hurried the Doctor and Charles Dickens out of the theatre and onto the street.

Meanwhile, Sherlock and Rose had rushed out of the theatre, following after the couple that had bundled off with an old woman, and wound up at the undertakers' coach. The girl was babbling about the tragedy, but Sherlock pressed past her, checking out-"She's dead!" Sherlock shouted, turning to the frightened girl, around Rose's age, and the older man. "And judging by the signs of rigor mortis and deterioration of the body, she died days ago and has already been embalmed!"

"What?" Rose asked, checking out the body for herself, a little bit nervous at touching a corpse, but she wanted to know as well.

"Nonsense!" The older man shouted, but reaching down—Sherlock darted forward, prepared to knock a gun out of the man's hand, but instead he got smacked hard with a cane, knocking him out.

"Sherlock!" Rose cried, but the older man had a chloroform-soaked handkerchief ready, knocking her out as well. The older man and the girl quickly bundled up both Rose and Sherlock into the hearse, though it was hard, and they barely had Sherlock inside before they heard someone else calling out his name from the direction of the theatre.

"Come on, Gwyneth," The older man shouted, clambering onto the hearse and flicking the horses' reins, urging them on to a gallop with Gwyneth barely able to bang shut the hearse door and get on before they departed.

"John! What is it?" The Doctor asked as he and Charles Dickens caught up with the shorter man outside of the theatre. John was reaching into his frock coat, a frightened look on his face—"Stop, John!" The Doctor grabbed his arm and squeezed him hard, wrenching his hold. "You better not have a gun under there."

John froze at the fierce, cold glare on the Doctor's face and shivered. "So what if I am armed? Sherlock, and probably Rose as well, are in danger, if not—I just saw a woman bundling Sherlock into the back of an undertaker's coach! There!" John nodded towards the coach barreling down the street ahead.

"That is still no excuse. We never use guns, especially with innocent lives involved! With any life-form involved! We just don't. And you better learn that lesson well, or so help me, I will dump you off on the loneliest, coldest, most desolate planet I can possibly find." The Doctor said, letting go of John.

"All right, I will remember that." John muttered, letting go of his gun. "But they're still getting away."

"That's all right, we'll catch up with them." The Doctor said, running off to grab a coach with John and Charles Dickens just behind.

However, it turned out to be Dickens' coach, so the Doctor grabbed the author and pulled him inside while John had to grab hold of the coach at the rear, hanging on the outside like an old-fashioned footman as they set off after the hearse. The coach driver shouted at John and the Doctor, while the Doctor babbled at the author like a squealing fan, convincing Dickens enough to let John and the Doctor stay on board.

John sighed, relieved that they didn't have to worry about being thrown off a moving coach, although he still feared what might have happened to Sherlock and Rose. They surely had to still be alive, right? He stared ahead, gripping the coach tightly in this icy weather, and grimaced at the sight of the hearse moving farther away from them. They had to catch up before it was too late. He would not let Sherlock Holmes die. He loved him more than anything now.

Sherlock groaned as he began to revive and found himself trapped in a tight, uncomfortable, warm space, unable to move with both an unconscious Rose and a dead woman stuck in here with him—a compartment big enough for one coffin, yet still a squeeze for three people piled in together. "Let me out! Let me out!" Sherlock started shouting, banging, and kicking, losing his mind for a moment as he began to panic. Not the perfect time to discover he was claustrophobic and had an innate fear of being buried alive.

But then he stopped, calming down or losing enough breath to realize this particular approach wouldn't work as whoever had trapped him and Rose in here—the undertaker and his assistant, he recalled—would not free him so readily. Plus, it felt like they were still moving, so little chance of getting out right now, and if they did, he and Rose would be falling out of a moving coach in the middle of what was surely a busy street—bad idea if there were horses and another coach right behind them, they would be trampled.

So Sherlock tried to slow his breathing to conserve oxygen for himself and Rose, mostly through a meditation process. He did not want to lose consciousness entirely, as he might go to sleep forever, but he just let himself go deep enough inside himself so that he did not have to breathe as often as he normally did. And he thought of John in that moment, hoping that he might see his doctor soon. He would be brave for John's sake.

After a while, the hearse stopped and Sherlock stiffened slightly, aware enough of what was going on that he was prepared to fight back when the hearse door opened and someone came to pull him out. But Sherlock had forgotten about the chloroform-soaked handkerchief; he passed out again before he had the chance to swipe at the undertaker or his assistant. Sherlock and Rose were taken into the funeral parlor and laid out upon the table.

As soon as Charles Dickens' coach arrived at the funeral parlor, John jumped off and dashed at the door—finding it locked, he pounded and shouted at it, wishing he had learned enough about lock-picking from Sherlock to get inside immediately, or that he could use his gun to shoot off the handle. The Doctor sighed as he and Charles Dickens approached, aware of how upset John was at losing Sherlock and worried about the man's emotional state, if he could be a liability to himself and anyone around him, especially with that gun he was carrying.

Why wasn't the Doctor aware of the gun that John was carrying with him, and had to have been carrying with him ever since he stepped onto the TARDIS a day or so ago, because he couldn't have gotten it since then? Must be because the Doctor had gotten used to the presence of guns back in—he inhaled sharply and shook his head, yet he still could see it, the war, and the guns he used to carry with him when he wasn't the Doctor anymore.

But he was the Doctor now, or at least that's what he told himself when he swore he would never, ever wield another weapon again after…he closed his eyes, not wanting to picture it again, but he could: the button, he would always see that button forever. And he would always press it forever.

But John was him now, the gun in John's hands, the army doctor who had seen another war and been deeply, physically, and mentally scarred by it. Though the Doctor would never speak of it, never ask John any questions about it, he understood part of what John had been through more than words could ever say. So they hardly ever spoke to each other, about important stuff at least, and the Doctor wasn't aware of the gun in John's hands. Yet maybe he was, in some small part of himself, and kept watch over John to make sure that he wouldn't ever wield it again.

That's what the Doctor told himself, yet here he was with an angry, upset, armed doctor who would tear down heaven and earth to save the man he loved and the Doctor had hardly done anything so far to stop him, apart from making him let go of the gun for a moment. The mind boggled, railed, and rallied against the thought, yet it was true, the Doctor knew that. And part of him wouldn't want to stop John from using the gun anymore—he wouldn't care, or maybe he would care too much to try.

"Let me in! Sherlock!" John cried, and when the front door was finally opened by a frightened girl around Rose's age, John pushed past her without a care. She babbled about the funeral parlor being closed and the Doctor and Charles Dickens questioned her, oddly enough about the gas at one point, as John rushed through the funeral parlor rooms, still shouting for Sherlock in his frantic search as the undertaker tried to stop him several times, and got a punch in his nose for his trouble. At least John didn't whip out his gun as the Doctor had feared.

Meanwhile, Rose was roused with all of the shouting, though she was still too groggy from the chloroform to immediately respond as she noticed Sherlock lying almost as still as death next to her. She quickly checked, but breathed a sigh of relief to see that he was still breathing and alive, only unconscious. However, there was an unadorned, freshly built wooden coffin next to them in the corner, and as she watched, a whiff of blue smoke emanated from the gaslight above and whirled down into the corpse of the young man lying dead in the coffin, who began to rose.

Rose shrieked and grabbed Sherlock, dragging him off the table and away from the corpse getting out of his coffin with the old woman rising out of her coffin as well. She pounded on the door, shouting, "Doctor! John! Help!" She grabbed a vase of lilies at one point, throwing it at the corpses, but that didn't stop them at all, while Sherlock lied helpless beside her.

John, the Doctor, and Charles Dickens rushed off at the sound of Rose's call with John and the Doctor kicking in the door together. John gaped at the sight of the unconscious Sherlock, vulnerable to attack from zombies, and dragged him out of the room, checking him out and trying to revive him. "What did you do?" John questioned the undertaker and his assistant. "Drugged him and knocked him out?"

"It was what we had to do!" The undertaker cried. "He was already awake when we got him out of the hearse!"

"He was awake and aware-" John was horrified by that idea, it must have been a nightmare for Sherlock, and glared at the undertaker. "Just be glad that he is still alive."

Meanwhile, the Doctor confronted the walking dead, who had stopped at the sight of him and spoke in unearthly voices to him—Sherlock gasped as he awoke, roused by the unearthly shrieks as the 'spirits' left their bodies. "John?" Sherlock managed to say, aware of whom was attending him. "You came?"

"Of course I bloody well came, you sick-" John inhaled sharply and kissed Sherlock, hugging him tightly as Sherlock weakly responded. The undertaker and his assistant stared at them in horror, even more so than when they had faced the ghouls, but they were aware of the glares that the Doctor and Rose shot their way, just challenging them to speak out and see what happened. Even Charles Dickens managed a glare at the undertaker, though he was curious about Sherlock and John as well.

"Anyone want some tea?" The assistant asked, trying to act as if everything was perfectly normal, and hurried off to go make some.

The undertaker invited them to come sit in his private parlor, where Rose and John lashed out at him while the Doctor and Charles Dickens silently watched, observing and considering everything, though the Doctor was smiling at Rose. Meanwhile, Sherlock recovered from his experience, meditated on his thoughts, and reflected upon what he had just survived as he watched the assistant come in with tea. He noticed the fear, despair, anxiety and guilt in her eyes. She had gone through a harrowing experience and seemed most deeply affected by all of the ghosts, perhaps more sensitive than the undertaker was and suffering most of all.

He thanked her for the tea, smiling as he tried to be kind for once when John insisted that he should consider the feelings of others more often, but she hurried off away from him, more frightened than she was before. Sherlock shrugged, slightly disappointed in the failure of his experiment, but not offended when she was obviously in a poor state of mind anyway. Charles Dickens grabbed a cup and distractedly slurped.

"Who are you again?" Sherlock asked the man sitting across from him, and when he got his reply, he shrugged and said, "Never heard of you," sipping his tea and already feeling bored.

"Never heard of-" Charles Dickens sputtered and gaped at Sherlock, causing enough of a stir that even the Doctor and Rose noticed.

They were shocked and slightly outraged when they heard what was going on. "You've never heard of Charles Dickens, one of the greatest writers of British literature in the 19th century?" The Doctor asked.

"What? Why is that so important?" Sherlock shrugged. "I don't know of him, but I can always look him up if I had to, so why does that matter?"

John sighed and said, "Sherlock has this thing where if he doesn't consider something important or relevant to his cases or life, he deletes it from his mind palace." The Doctor and Rose boggled at Sherlock, who rolled his eyes at this uproar. Charles Dickens openly stared at Sherlock as well, finding him curious and fascinating at the same time.

"Mind palace?" Rose laughed. "Your brain is a mind palace? What have you got in that?"

"Everything that is important to me, so can we please stop discussing this and get back to the business at hand?" Sherlock frowned. "I would like to know more about these so-called ghosts, if that is what they really are, which I imagine is not the case." The Doctor slowly nodded.

"I agree with you there," Charles Dickens nodded, "I doubt these ghosts as well. An amateurish ploy, no doubt, to fool those superstitious enough to believe the dead can be brought back to life."

"I disagree there." Sherlock said, glancing at Dickens. "They are real, and they do revive corpses, but they are not ghosts or spirits of the departed. They are creatures, no, beings from another world."

The Doctor smiled. "Give the man a medal!" He said as Rose, John, and everyone else gaped at Sherlock.

"Are you serious?" Charles Dickens asked.

"I am." Sherlock said, nodding.

"Good God, man." Charles Dickens said, but the Doctor told Charles Dickens to pipe down, causing Sherlock and John to laugh.

The Doctor and the undertaker explained everything as Charles Dickens stormed away, leaving the room. Sherlock noticed a glance exchanged between the undertaker and his assistant with the talk of feeling the presence of the spirits; yes, perhaps she was sensitive to the presence of these ghosts or whatever they were, maybe well enough to communicate with them? That would be something that had to be explored.


	9. Revive the Dead

John himself felt the whole situation was surreal: if someone had told him a week ago that he would be traveling through time and space with an alien, meeting Charles Dickens, meeting 'the last human' (who was a trampoline skin), nearly getting killed by plastic men, almost getting burned up along with the Earth, and then saving and kissing Sherlock Holmes…he would have laughed in that person's face and then slugged that person to avoid such an obvious lunatic. The Sherlock Holmes part might have given him pause, but he would have still considered it to be too outlandish to come true.

But here he was in a nineteenth-century funeral parlor with Charles Dickens just walking out the door in a snit and having a cup of tea while discussing ghost-like aliens possessing and zombifying dead bodies with his new boyfriend and the undertaker who had attacked them. It was almost impossible to believe, except that he was living it and, though properly scared and furious at times, he was excited by it all, especially the Sherlock Holmes part. He looked across at the consulting detective, entranced and intrigued by the discussion, and loved him so very deeply, relieved that they were both alive right now.

If things were different, if they were alone and not in such a dangerous, yet politely reserved state…he might reconsider his former protestation about it being too soon for them to copulate in nineteenth-century terms. But for now, he would keep that to himself. Meanwhile, Sherlock briefly noticed John's attention to himself, but decided to overlook it for the moment as he refused to get too roped up in such mutual attraction when he still had to attend to this case, although as soon as it was over, he would attend to John as well and he looked forward to that.

"I better go check on Charles." The Doctor said, wandering off after Charles Dickens, which neither Rose nor John could get used to.

Sherlock managed to get up and set off after him, which worried John for a minute as he didn't want to let Sherlock out of his sight after that near-death scare, although perhaps Sherlock would be fine enough with the Doctor. The undertaker ordered Gwyneth to wash up and roped John into a discussion of his business, which infuriated John, especially when he couldn't stand the man. Rose went off after Gwyneth.

Sherlock and the Doctor found Charles poking about the dead bodies, 'checking for strings' as the Doctor said to find out if there was another kind of secret, ploy, or explanation beyond what the Doctor and Sherlock had supplied for the events of this evening. As the Doctor attentively listened, and Sherlock rolled his eyes in exasperation, Charles prattled on about illusions and the real world being something else, or so he had believed, until this evening had broken down and blurred his vision until he couldn't think straight and worried if his life had any meaning or value.

"Yes, the real world is an illusion. Society's perception is warped and stained by misdirection, illusion, trickery and wrong-headed beliefs, but what of it?" Sherlock said, causing the Doctor to frown at him for being inappropriate and inconsiderate as Charles Dickens stared at him in shock and horror. "Life has no real value beyond what we make of it and I say we should make a hell of it. Take as much of an advantage as we can out of life and do whatever needs to be done to live and not be so bored all of the time. You cannot make life worth living unless you do something about it to make it worthwhile."

Charles Dickens gaped at him and murmured, "Perhaps you are right about that."

"Nice job, Sherlock." The Doctor managed to say.

"Thank you, I think." Sherlock muttered, turning and walking away to rejoin the others. "Anything to shut him up." The Doctor and Charles Dickens followed after him.

John, tired of listening to the undertaker, managed to excuse himself and went to check on Rose and the other girl, Gwyneth, finding them laughing over school and boys. John eavesdropped on them until they reached a quiet point, talking about Gwyneth's parents being up in paradise and then Gwyneth mentioned Rose's dad. John's eyes widened and he was startled slightly to hear footsteps behind him and a hand on his shoulder.

"Have I missed anything?" Sherlock asked, intrigued.

"They're just talking…" John muttered, but both of them silently watched as Gwyneth peered into Rose's eyes and saw so much of their 21st century, speaking of 'darkness' and the 'big bad wolf' as well, that it seemed like more than mere coincidence. The two fellows were so wrapped up in what she was saying, that they didn't notice the Doctor joining them as well.

As Gwyneth stumbled backwards, away from Rose, she turned to Sherlock, John, and the Doctor and gasped at them in horror as well. "The dead bodies you three have seen and are yet to see." Gwyneth whispered. "The wars you three have been through, on and off battlefields, and the wars you are yet to see. Such terrible violence, anger, and sorrow all throughout the stars and beyond and the smiling men with hyena grins who will plague you three, oh, my stars!" She hid her face in her hands, crying.

"Tell me more." Sherlock said, striding forward to grasp the girl by the shoulders when no one else would make a move. "Tell me more of what you see."

"Sherlock, please leave her alone." Rose and John both said, distraught, though the Doctor remained silent.

"How far you will fall, how lost you will be, you and the Doctor especially." Gwyneth said, looking up into Sherlock's eyes. "Will you ever return home again or will there be a home to return to? In love you three are, but will that love last forever? I can't see anymore."

Sherlock grimaced and let go of the girl, not wanting to hear anymore either, as John shook his head, refusing to believe while the Doctor stared at Gwyneth, aghast. Rose lowered her head before the Doctor spoke again, talking about Gwyneth's second sight getting stronger, part of the rift's influence—Sherlock's eyes widened. "She can really see into the future?" He asked.

The Doctor nodded. "The future, the past, the present, the might-have-beens and never-weres, she can hear and see glimpses of other worlds and times."

"Oh god, no," John said, trying to deny…he didn't want to believe that his love might fail before it had a chance to take-off, yet here he was being presented with that possibility. It was just what he had feared from the start.

"We can make this work, John." Sherlock managed to say, though he feared the same. Rose and the Doctor refused to look at each other at this point, not wanting to acknowledge the possibility either, especially when they weren't in love yet, though it was there in the back of their minds, that possibility and doubt over their own hearts and feelings.

The Doctor said they would be holding a séance with John grimacing and saying, "What, we're going to be calling upon the ghost-like aliens to come and—oh. That's exactly what we are doing, aren't we?" The Doctor nodded.

"Oh, goody." Sherlock said, smiling. "I've always wanted to experience a true séance."

They went back into the drawing room and sat round a table, with even Mr. Sneed and Charles Dickens joining hands, though it was rather crowded and Dickens muttered at the sheer folly of it all until the ghost-like aliens started to appear and the Doctor urged Gwyneth to establish a connection. And the Gelth came, speaking to them about the Time War and being the last of their kind.

"Just like the Doctor." Sherlock muttered, suspicious.

"What is this?" John asked, glancing around at the Doctor, Rose, and Sherlock with their grim faces, but he wasn't getting an explanation out of any one of them as the Gelth continued on, asking for dead bodies to possess. Rose protested, but the Doctor overruled her.

"Would this be good for my business?" The undertaker asked.

"Is it a temporary solution?" John asked the Gelth and the Doctor. "I mean, the dead bodies are decomposing, surely they can't live like that forever."

"Perhaps," The Doctor said, nodding as the Gelth soon vanished and Gwyneth fainted, exhausted from channeling the Gelth with Rose, John, and the others worrying and checking after her, though Sherlock remained at a slight remove, considering the situation.

"Isn't this dangerous for Gwyneth?" John asked the Doctor soon after the girl revived. "Aren't we using her just as much as-"

"I'm not being used or taken advantage of if that's what you think. I am helping them out of goodness and mercy, like any decent person would." Gwyneth muttered, glancing at John. "They need me when they are so helpless. How can I refuse them?"

"Of course we can't refuse them," Mr. Sneed said, nodding. "Especially if they are willing to pay for the privilege." The others sighed in exasperation at Mr. Sneed's greed.

"Yeah, listen to her." The Doctor said, nodding. "She wants to help them and I think we should, just to give them a fair chance at life. It might not be the perfect solution, but it's probably temporary until we can find another for them."

"All of this trouble just to find out what they are doing here and what's it all for and we haven't really gotten to the bottom of it." Sherlock muttered, causing the others to glance at him. "It seems very convenient to me that they are survivors of the Time War and the last of their kind, just like the Doctor, and-"

"Hold on a second here!" John cried, standing up. "What is this? Would someone please explain to me what this is all about?"

"I fought in the Time War, me and the rest of the Time Lords against our greatest enemy," The Doctor said, standing up to face John. "Millions of worlds, life-forms, and civilizations were affected, a lot of them collapsed and died, and that happened to me. My planet is gone, my people are dead, and I am the last surviving Time Lord."

"Oh. Oh my god." John gaped at the Doctor. "I didn't know, I'm sorry. I am…the last one here to know, aren't I?" He asked, looking at Sherlock and Rose in particular.

"I didn't know." Charles Dickens said, slightly drunk.

"And you believe it's your fault, don't you, that the Gelth are like this?" Sherlock asked the Doctor.

"Yes." The Doctor said.

"But they might be taking advantage of you there if they know who you are and what you have experienced by going through the rift. Do we know that they are telling the truth? Have you heard of the Gelth before? I don't believe you have." Sherlock said.

"I'm willing to risk it to help someone, anyone." The Doctor said.

"This is hopeless." Sherlock muttered as Rose and the Doctor also got into an argument before Gwyneth ended the discussion, insisting that they had to help. So they trooped down into the morgue as Sherlock grimaced, glancing around. "Molly would have had a fit if she had seen the state of this place."

"Who?" Rose asked.

"Dr. Molly Hooper, she helps Sherlock out at St. Barts' morgue." John said as Rose nodded and tried to discuss the problem with the Doctor, but things quickly got out of control. Gwyneth stepped into the archway before the Gelth made any promises not to hurt her, and though the Doctor tried to negotiate with the Gelth and insist that this was a temporary solution, the Gelth rushed out of Gwyneth in a furious storm.

"A few billion in force?" Sherlock shouted over the roar. "This doesn't look much like a temporary solution, this looks more like an invasion force!"

"All right, fine, I made a mistake, you happy?" The Doctor shouted back at him. "I just wanted—never mind." He wanted to make up for what he had done, even though it was impossible now, he realized, to stop himself from pushing that button.

Mr. Sneed tried to stop Gwyneth, but he got killed, and Charles Dickens ran out of the room when he was close by the door and ignored by the Gelth. "Coward!" Sherlock shouted out at him.

"It's pointless, Sherlock, let him go." John muttered, seeing the zombies trooping towards them and they retreated towards a gated alcove, possibly a kiln for cremation. "He probably won't survive for long either. What an appropriate place for us to be in."

"I'm sorry, John, I never imagined this would happen." Sherlock said, glaring at the dead people groping for them. "I'm just so angry at the unfairness of it all that this had to happen. It shouldn't be true."

"It's not your fault or anyone's, really. Who could have believed this would happen?" John said, shaking his head when he didn't want Sherlock blaming the Doctor either. "It's all right, I guess. At least we're together at the end, and that counts for something."

"John…" Sherlock said, turning to embrace him hard, feeling like he wanted to weep, yet couldn't. The Doctor and Rose faced death together as well when suddenly, Charles Dickens rushed back into the room, shouting about the gas. "Gas? Of course!" Sherlock shouted, laughing to himself, delirious. "How could we be so stupid?"

"Like this?" The Doctor said, pulling on the gas switch for the cremation kiln they were standing in, and suddenly, just like Charles Dickens said, the Gelth were sucked up into the air, out of the bodies. They rushed out of the kiln, Rose, Sherlock, and John in particular coughing up a storm when they had been exposed to a ton of gas, and the Doctor went up to Gwyneth, pleading for her to send them back, but Sherlock frowned as he studied her.

"Dead. She's dead." Sherlock managed to say, feeling like he might pass out, but John helped him up as the Doctor urged them to go. The four humans fled through the house, coughing and choking, out into the relatively fresh, open air, breathing in heavy gulps of nineteenth-century Cardiff.

"Free. We're free!" John laughed, almost collapsing onto the snow-covered ground, which wasn't exactly crisp and clean, with Sherlock on top of him.

Sherlock shook his head and rolled off of him, sighing. "Feeling better?"

"Yeah, you?" John said and Sherlock responded by kissing him forcefully, the couple embracing as Rose and Charles Dickens recovered off to the side.

"Sex maniacs." Charles Dickens said with a laugh.

"Merry Christmas to you, too, humbug." Sherlock said as the Doctor rushed out of the house, which exploded behind him, showering them with debris and heating them up a bit.

"Oh my god!" John gasped as they shielded themselves from the force of the explosion, "Gwyneth." He said, realizing what was happening. The Doctor explained the situation, astonishing Rose and John in particular, though Sherlock grimaced to himself as he had realized it before.

"She was dead, yet there had to be something left in her subconscious." Sherlock muttered. "An echo if you would of what she had once been." It was the best attempt at a rational explanation that he could possibly manage. They set off soon after, back to the TARDIS, with Charles Dickens following after them, blabbering about his ideas and notions.

"Thank you, Sherlock Holmes, for helping me to see that." Charles Dickens said, shocking John in particular.

"You're quite welcome. Good-bye." Sherlock said, managing a smile as he entered the TARDIS with John bidding farewell as well.

"What did you say to him?" John asked Sherlock, following him and leaving the Doctor and Rose to say good-bye to Charles.

"Oh, nothing much, but it was important to him." Sherlock said as the pair of them watched the scene on the console monitor. "It was—I haven't read much classical literature, as some people call it, and I remember even less, but there is a line that sticks with me from one piece in particular, the beginning of Paradise Lost."

"Really? What is it?" John asked, intrigued.

"The fallen angel Lucifer turns to a friend of his after they reach Hell and basically says, the mind can make a heaven of hell or a hell of heaven. It's all in the mind, how we perceive and respond to things." Sherlock said, turning to John. "And I told Charles Dickens to embrace his life, make something worthwhile out of it. Make a hell of it." He grinned and John kissed him again, right there on the console.

"Oi, you two! Enough!" The Doctor shouted as he and Rose entered and the two fellows parted.

"Sorry." John said, blushing as Sherlock laughed. Rose asked the Doctor about Charles Dickens and the Doctor explained that he would die next year, which sort of dampened the mood a bit for everyone, reminding them of death and destruction once more. The Doctor gave Charles Dickens one last thrill, seeing the TARDIS dematerialize, and then explained that at least they got to see the man live again.

"That is what you do, is it not, Doctor?" Sherlock asked, facing the Time Lord. "You bring the dead back to life. You revive them when you see them living, breathing, loving, laughing, working and scheming again. Everywhere you go throughout time and space, all of the places you've seen and all of the people you've met, for one brief, shining moment you bring the dead back to life and they live again for you to see, witness, and visit."

"Sherlock, please, let's not discuss this." John muttered, concerned about the Doctor's reaction.

"I suppose you're right about that." The Doctor said, sighing. "But sometimes the dead stay dead or they die all over again right before your eyes. Sometimes it's not worth the trouble or bother, but I keep living, they keep dying, and I still visit them. Pop in to say hello and good-bye." He grimly smiled at his dark joke.

"It's still magnificent in some ways." Sherlock said, thoughtful. "I used to imagine what it would be like to go back in time and see a murder happen. Witness the victim and the murderer interacting with each other and how events played out or unfolded for the murderer and the victim to be in that position-"

"You're way too morbid." The Doctor said, shaking his head.

"Sometimes you have to be to face the level of crime and bloodshed I've seen. Though it is but a fraction of what you've seen, right, Doctor?" Sherlock asked.

"Leave me alone." The Doctor muttered.

"Maybe we are too wrapped up in melodrama." John suddenly said to himself, trying to levy the mood. "Whatever happened to being camp?"

"That went out the window ages ago." Sherlock shrugged. "We can only be camp when we're not in so much danger all of the time and there is bound to be more soon." He remembered what Gwyneth had told them, especially himself, John, and the Doctor in particular. He didn't want to face that.

"But that's no excuse. We can still be camp and enjoy ourselves sometimes when we're not in deadly danger, right?" John asked. "It doesn't have to deathly morbid all of the time."

"That's exactly right, Sherlock and John." The Doctor said, nodding. "Listen to the man. That's what I try to do, you know. I try to smile and laugh and have a good time even when things are getting dangerous and agitated. I try to enjoy myself, put on a brave face, a great big smile and love every minute of it even though my whole planet and all of its people, except for me, have been wiped out of the universe!" The Doctor gasped and inhaled as everyone stared at him in horror. "I try to smile and be happy, no matter how hard it is."

"I'm sorry." John said, retreating.

"Let's go back to London in the 21st century." The Doctor muttered, turning to the console. "Enjoy ourselves there."

"Doctor, I'm sorry about all of this, I really am." John said again, shaking his head, worried about the Doctor's grim mood and if he might kick them out of the TARDIS in a foul temper, traveling on again alone, endangering himself with a death wish. "I didn't know, no one told me…"

"It's not your fault, John, although we do have to fetch back Sherlock's laptop with all of those important files that you accidentally left behind in Mickey's car." The Doctor said, slightly more light-hearted.

"Oh. Oh." John said, slightly relieved as it sounded like this might be a stop-over, not a full stop. "Yes, let's get that back and then carry on, shall we?"

"And I can get some of my stuff and a passport, tell my mom that I'll be traveling…" Rose said.

"And I can apprise Mycroft of the situation and tell Lestrade and all of my clients that I shall be unavailable for the foreseeable future." Sherlock said, nodding. "Sounds good to me as well."

"Great, everybody's happy." The Doctor said, still grim and worried about the future as well. He could still see that button flashing…


	10. Returning Home

Like I've said before, I've made some canon changes to this story and some of the timelines/pacing of story lines may not exactly match up with the changes I've made. Please excuse any time bumps.

* * *

Still dressed in nineteenth century clothing, Rose, Sherlock, and John retreated to their rooms to change, and while Rose had a hell of a time of it, she managed. She stepped out of her room just as Sherlock did and they paused, staring at each other. Rose smiled and awkwardly approached, holding out her hand. "Thanks for coming after me, earlier. I never got the chance to say anything."

"Think nothing of it." Sherlock said, nodding and not shaking. "You and I were both after the same thing, finding out more about that woman and the ghost. We just got caught together."

"Right. We really haven't had a chance to talk, you and me leastways, since yesterday I suppose when you told me about the Doctor at my flat." Rose shook her head as she removed her hand. "I couldn't believe you then, but now…god, it's so amazing, everything he does. How long have you known about him?"

"To tell you the truth, I only found out about the Doctor a few hours before you did." Sherlock said. "I just received a bunch of files from my brother on him and researched him quite extensively, memorizing, analyzing, and digesting the information."

"Really? That's amazing, you sounded like such an expert." Rose said, blinking.

"I try my best and for the most part, I am an expert in many areas. I retain quite a lot of information in my mind palace."

"Right, that's a good one." Rose laughed. "So anyway, nice talking to you. Hope you and John are doing well." She turned to leave.

"Rose, there is one thing I wanted to ask you." Sherlock hesitated and finally he said, "I know why you wanted to travel with the Doctor. Gwyneth mentioned you had been thinking of your father a lot…I'm assuming he's dead?"

Rose halted in her steps and gaped at Sherlock. "How did you—yeah, he's dead and I had been thinking…time travel, you know? What's the point of it if you can't go see someone like Charles Dickens who is long since gone? What's the difference if it is my own father?"

"Careful." Sherlock cautioned. "I don't know much about time travel, but I'm assuming there are rules or limitations to it."

"The Doctor hasn't exactly been careful thus far, has he?" Rose asked. "We've been mucking about a bit in the past and future, and times change, according to the Doctor. He was all ready to let the Gelth invade those bodies."

"That was different. It didn't happen, and if it had…well, maybe it wouldn't have had too much of an effect." Sherlock frowned to himself.

"That's exactly what I'm talking about!" Rose said. "My father is just the same."

"But if time changes too much, then how can the universe remain stable?" Sherlock said. "Your father is the reason you decided to time travel to…save or see him again, so if something does happen to change that, then it wouldn't happen."

"The universe wouldn't explode if something happened with my father." Rose said.

"I'm just saying, think about what you are doing before you ask the Doctor to help you in this endeavor. You should consider the consequences." Sherlock said.

"All right, fine, I'll think about it. You won't tell him about my idea before I'm ready?" Rose asked.

"I won't say anything before you are ready." Sherlock said. He knew it wouldn't do any good for anyone when neither the Doctor nor Rose would be willing to listen.

"Thanks. Nice talking to you." Rose muttered as she turned and walked away from him towards the console room.

Sherlock watched her go as John exited his room. "Ah, they've got a good shower on here, you should try it." John said, wiping back his damp hair. "So, ready to go?" He asked Sherlock.

"Always." Sherlock smiled and clutched John's hand as they followed after Rose to rejoin the Doctor. They all soon exited the TARDIS, back on the Powell Estate, and exuberantly glanced around, the humans glad to be back in the 21st century for the moment as they reflected on all they had seen, felt, and experienced over the past couple of days. Sherlock grinned as he checked his cell reception, back to normal.

Before Rose left to head to her flat, she asked John, "Do you and Sherlock need any help finding Mickey's place?"

"No, I think I know where it is. I visited it with you before that Auton business blew up in our faces." John said, glancing around. He recited the directions to Mickey's flat and Rose nodded, confirming that he had gotten it right before she left.

"You do have a memory, good for you, John." Sherlock said, grinning as John playfully punched him in the arm. He was texting his brother and Lestrade to inform them that he would be gone for a short while.

"And just for that, I'm going to go get the laptop back by myself." John said, walking off in the direction of Mickey's flat. "You two have fun!"

"Got it." Sherlock said, not really paying attention to John at the moment as the Doctor chuckled, shook his head, and wandered off on his own.

Suddenly, Sherlock's phone was buzzing after he sent the texts. He frowned as he saw who was calling and answered, "What is it, Lestrade?"

"Gone for a short while? You've been gone for a bloody month already!" Lestrade shouted on the other end, deafening Sherlock. "Where in hell have you and John been? Did you two run off with that Rose Tyler girl as well? We've had a worried mother calling us-"

"What?" Sherlock gasped, shaking his head. "No, no, no, listen to me, Lestrade, I can explain, we can explain everything. Rose is back, we're here at the Powell Estate-"

"Don't move a solitary muscle! I'm coming over there." Lestrade hung up just as Sherlock received another call.

"Damn it." Sherlock muttered, seeing who it was, before he answered, "Hello, Mycroft."

"So nice to hear from you again, Sherlock." Mycroft said. "I was beginning to give up hope. Did the Doctor happen to inform you three that he brought you back home a little late?"

"No, he didn't, he thought he was bringing us back home a few hours after we left." Sherlock said, turning about. "Although I should not have supposed that he would be entirely reliable on that account. We've had some time travel problems already with arriving at the exact place and time."

"Time travel, what a marvelous thing that must be." Mycroft sighed. "You must tell me all about it."

"I intend to someday, but not right now." Sherlock fumed. "Lestrade is furious with me. He's coming down to the Powell Estate right now. I think we might be in trouble if kidnapping charges are being leveled against us. Rose Tyler is fine, by the way, she should be back home in her mother's arms by now."

"Excellent news, glad to hear of it, otherwise we would have had a serious mess on our hands. But now we shall have that trouble sorted out in no time at all." Mycroft said. "By the way, I did get your laptop back from that girl's nervous boyfriend, Mickey Smith. Excellent fellow, though, once he started to cooperate with us." Sherlock stiffened as he listened to his older brother. "You really should not have left the laptop behind. Could have caused us a world of problems, nearly did cause a fuss when Mickey blabbed too much about the Doctor to the police. Eventually he did back off on his accusations."

"I hope you didn't hurt him." Sherlock said.

"Not too much." Mycroft said. "He's probably recovered by now. Listen, I have to go and deal with your sordid mess as well as a few other problems. Be sure to call Mum and Dad before too long, they have been worried sick."

"Did you tell them where I was?" Sherlock asked.

"I mentioned some things, though not a whole lot. They did pester me about it." Mycroft was probably frowning. "I've got to go, good-bye."

"Good-bye." Sherlock muttered as the Doctor ran up to him, holding up a piece of paper with a 'Missing' advertisement on it for Rose. "I know! We've been gone for a whole month!" Sherlock shouted and sighed, exhausted.

"I'm sorry, I didn't-" The Doctor started to say.

"Is there any way we can come back again in the past before we went missing for a month?" Sherlock asked.

The Doctor shook his head. "It's been established, we've been gone for a month. We can't change that now, we're part of it."

"Time travel, of all the lousy rules-what's the point of it if you can't change these things?" Sherlock asked and then sighed again. "Fine then. We'll get on with it. Detective Inspector Lestrade of Scotland Yard is coming over to check that Rose is back and my brother Mycroft is going to erase the kidnapping charges leveled against me and John. He already got the laptop back from Mickey. Should we check in on Rose?"

The Doctor gaped at him and shrugged. "Might as well."

However, before they could, John and Mickey Smith suddenly rushed up towards them. "Is Rose back? Is she fine?" Mickey asked, striding up to the Doctor.

"Yeah, she is." The Doctor said and swerved to avoid a fist that Mickey swung at him with John and Sherlock trying to restrain the young man.

"You bloody well deserve worse than that! Leaving us here worrying about her, gone for a whole month with Inspector Lestrade, the police, and bloody Mycroft Holmes questioning me and Rose's mum. I get blamed for everything and arrested five times, not to mention being brought in to be interrogated by-" Mickey kept on ranting at the Doctor, staring at him in horror, until the young man calms down and shakes off Sherlock and John.

"I'm sorry." The Doctor said.

"Bloody well right." Mickey sighed. "Well, where is she, Rose? Is she up at her flat?" The others nod and Mickey said, "Might as well go up there and see how they're handling it. Have the police been called yet?"

"Inspector Lestrade is coming." Sherlock muttered.

"Terrific." Mickey said and they all tromp upstairs to meet a now furious Jackie Tyler, who thoroughly slaps Sherlock, John, and even the Doctor, ranting and raving at them.

Inspector Lestrade and several constables arrive to quell the domestic disturbance and question the participants involved. Rose insists that she was not kidnapped, that she ran away from home and traveled with the other fellows. Inspector Lestrade and the constables are skeptical when they doubt that anyone would willingly travel with Sherlock Holmes. But they accept it for the most part, especially when Mycroft Holmes calls Lestrade to clear up the matter in his own way.

"Who is it? It's that woman, isn't it, or her employer? The one who offered me compensation? Fat chance!" Jackie cried, causing Rose and Mickey to stare at her in shock.

"Mum, this isn't like you." Rose said.

"What do you expect? My own daughter, my only child, goes missing and someone offers to pay me off cheap to keep me quiet? Do you think I would be willing to accept that?" Jackie asked. The others don't say anything, though Rose feels somewhat gratified in an odd, unsatisfactory sort of way.

"Listen, Ms. Tyler, suffice it to say that there is no evidence or case to be built up against Sherlock Holmes, Dr. John Watson, or this…bloke at the moment." Inspector Lestrade said, staring at the Doctor in some perplexity and curiosity as to who he was, but apparently he was mixed up in some of Mycroft's important, though mysterious, government business. "Rose is well, she doesn't seem to have been coerced, forced, or kidnapped, and apparently this is a legitimate business she was involved in, so there's nothing to be done. The others are free to go."

"Right, thank you, but don't sound so disappointed. Do you want me to be guilty of something?" Sherlock asks Lestrade.

"One of these days, Sherlock, you and your friends are probably going to get into big trouble that neither me nor your brother can get you out of. I'm ashamed to say I don't want to see that day." Lestrade said as John glanced back and forth between them, a bit worried.

"Hang on, Sherlock's brother—is he the one who tried to pay me off?" Jackie asked, agape. "That's not right or fair!"

"I know, I know, but that's the way things are." Lestrade muttered. "And you would have a hard time trying to sue him."

"Can I at least get an apology of some sort?" Mickey asked and Lestrade recited the standard procedure for filing a complaint against Scotland Yard and the police until Mickey waved him off.

"I'm certainly going to file a complaint." Jackie said.

As Rose and her mum retreat to the kitchen to hug, Sherlock, John, and the Doctor, with Mickey trailing behind, snuck out of the flat, glad to be free from its constrictive environment. "I need some air." Sherlock muttered.

"What about the roof, since we can't leave yet?" The Doctor asked.

"What about Mrs. Hudson and our flat?" John asked Sherlock.

"Oh, you're right about that." Sherlock said, turning to the Doctor and Mickey. "John and I are going back to our flat, 221B Baker Street, to settle up with our landlady and see how things are going there. Do any of you want to come?"

"I've got to wait for Rose at least." Both Mickey and the Doctor said, staring at each other.

"Right." Sherlock said, nodding as he recognized the growing conundrum here. "See you later." Sherlock raced off down the stairs, not wanting to get involved in that mess, and John said good-bye as well.

"Um…you won't be leaving without us, right?" John asked the Doctor.

"Course not. And just so you know, here-" The Doctor reached in his pocket and pulled out two keys. "The TARDIS had three of them, ready and waiting lying on the console, when we got back from nineteenth century Cardiff and Charles Dickens."

"Charles—bloody hell, what have you lot been up to?" Mickey asked, shaking his head.

"Nothing much, just gate-crashing an end of the world party and met Charles Dickens and some alien ghosts." The Doctor grinned at a flabbergasted Mickey before he told John, "Those keys let you and Sherlock into the TARDIS at any time and place. Not many can access it, you know, so guard them well."

"Thanks. Thank you very much." John said, gaping as he accepted the two keys, one each for himself and Sherlock, and felt a warm glow. "I should probably thank the TARDIS as well." He laughed.

"Might not be such a bad idea." The Doctor added before John suddenly hugged him, thanked him again, and ran off after Sherlock, leaving the Doctor flabbergasted now. How long had it been, the Doctor wondered, since anyone had hugged him? Must have been ages by his reckoning, since…don't even think about it.

"Bloody hell." Mickey said, contemplative as he walked away. "Alien ghosts." The Doctor shook his head and went upstairs to the roof, hoping that Rose would follow him.

After Sherlock received his TARDIS key, which he gleefully examined and stowed safely away in a hidden pocket, John and Sherlock caught a cab. "It's still not enough, though. I want my own sonic screwdriver." Sherlock suddenly said as they got into the cab.

"What? Well, you're certainly not getting one." John said before he gave the driver the address, got his credit card swiped for the fare, and they left.

"Why not? Why can't he or the TARDIS make me one? It should be simple enough." Sherlock asked.

"I doubt it." John muttered.

"The TARDIS made us those keys." Sherlock said. "What's the difference? The TARDIS can probably create or produce anything. I wouldn't be surprised on that account. It certainly does expand and create new entire rooms for guests."

"Sherlock Holmes, you're not getting it. I'm fairly certain that only the Doctor gets a sonic screwdriver. We get TARDIS keys." John said, exasperated. "We're probably lucky to even have that sonic penlight bug-zapper thing he gave me and I doubt I'll get to keep that thing for long. I'm certainly not going to be able to keep my gun."

"What? What happened? Did you use it or show it to the Doctor?" Sherlock asked.

"I nearly did use it when Mr. Sneed ran off with you and Rose." John said, leaning against Sherlock. "I was going to try shooting the bastard and his coach when the Doctor stopped me." He glanced up at Sherlock. "I was afraid of losing you. I didn't want that to happen. So yes, I lost my head there and the Doctor got mad at me, threatened to desert me on some cold, inhospitable planet if I tried again."

Sherlock, who had wrapped his arms around the doctor to try comforting him and reassure him that he was still here, froze and frowned at the Doctor's threat. "That's not right at all." He said. "How dare he do that to you?"

John shrugged. "What can you do? I suppose the Doctor is right in some regard. We shouldn't be armed and threaten innocent lives, especially when we don't know the consequences of our actions and are so emotionally and mentally unstable at the time. Worried about others, in my instance."

"He should have understood your dilemma, and the fear you were experiencing." Sherlock said. "The Doctor could have done a better job of handling the situation without threatening you like that."

"The Doctor did understand. He felt that way once, I'm sure." John said. "The Doctor is recovering from that Time War, don't forget, and the death of his planet. I didn't know about it at the time, but now I understand why he has such a hang-up about being armed and using guns. I would probably feel the same way if so much terrible tragedy had affected me. My whole planet, everyone I ever knew and loved, even those I didn't know—destroyed, killed in a terrible war. I couldn't live with that, stand the pain. I'm surprised he did. It could have gone worse between me and him. He could have been a lot worse."

"You're right." Sherlock sighed, shaking his head. "It could have been worse, he could have been worse. I don't understand why he hasn't fallen apart already. He's almost on the verge, I'm sure, right on the edges of that pain and insanity. Why and how he hasn't fallen over the brink already, I don't know."

"Maybe because he has hope that something good would come along?" John asked. "Like Rose or whoever?"

"You may be right about that." Sherlock said, snuggling against the doctor. He certainly had found something good here, and he wasn't going to let go of John either.

As they arrived at 221 Baker Street and got out of the cab, they heard a loud honking noise echoing throughout the neighborhood and beyond and looked up to see a large shadow coming from the direction of the Powell Estate in the distance. John's eyes widened. "Is that a spaceship?"

"Bloody hell." Sherlock laughed as the spaceship passed over Tower Bridge in the distance, swerved over Central London past St. Paul's, turning round over Parliament and then…"Oh, no way." He said as the spaceship's wing crashed and ripped its way through 'Big Ben' clock tower. "Mycroft is going to have a really bad day today." He said, grinning and shaking his head as it crash-landed in the Thames.

"What are we going to do?" John asked. "We can't get hold of the Doctor right now. He's all the way across the river. We really should have gotten Rose's mobile number for emergencies such as this one."

"No worries. If Mycroft is dealing with an alien crash-landing in the Thames…" Sherlock's mobile rang. "Then he will deal with it through us." He answered, "Hello, dearest brother Mycroft."

"Where is he?" Mycroft asked, coldly furious, fuming and half-panicked. "Where is that trouble-making, meddling Doctor? This is all his fault, I know."

"Not everything is related to him, though he does tend to show up when things go south." Sherlock said. "John and I are back at 221, but the Doctor stayed at the Powell Estate with Rose. You need to go fetch him and Rose as well, she is his better half. Can John and I come?"

"Fine. Just hurry up while I arrange transportation over here." Mycroft said. "With the gridlock and citywide shutdown, it's going to take a helicopter to fetch the Doctor now."

"Certainly will do." Sherlock said, hanging up. "Come on, John. Might as well take the laptop with us again and grab some of our stuff. Hopefully we won't lose it again. And Mrs. Hudson will certainly be glad to see us."

"She certainly wouldn't slap us like Ms. Tyler did." John remarked, earning a laugh as they entered 221 and surprised Mrs. Hudson.

She cried as she hugged them and they briefly explained the situation as best they could, astonishing her. They ran upstairs, grabbed their stuff, kissed and hugged Mrs. Hudson on their way out with protestations and offers of baked goods and tea being made. Finally they got away and hoofed their way over to Mycroft's London headquarters with a helicopter waiting for them on the roof.

Anthea waited for them just inside. "Your brother sends his regards. He's busy at the moment."

"Naturally." Sherlock said.

"A body's been found inside the spaceship, certainly non-terrestrial in origin." Anthea told Sherlock and John, astonishing them. "It's been taken to St. Barts morgue under UNIT supervision."

"Molly is going to be the first person to perform an alien autopsy on Earth." John said, gasping and shaking his head.

"Technically she is not the first, just the first public one." Anthea added.

"I could have told him that." Sherlock said, though he was a little disappointed not to be there when Molly performed the autopsy, certain that it would prove interesting and enlightening.

Meanwhile, Lestrade muttered, "Alien spaceship crash lands in the middle of London, and I'm stuck here on the bleeding wrong side of the river! Bloody Sherlock Holmes and Rose Tyler."

He called Donovan and tried to organize police response to the riots caused by the alien crisis. However, it wasn't the best way of managing things from his perspective, with little clue as to what sort of emergencies were taking place, how effective the response was, and the general atmosphere. He tried calling Mycroft several times to ask for help, but Mycroft was busy, and Lestrade only managed to get ahold of Anthea.

"I'm flying to the Powell Estate to pick up the Doctor and a Miss. Rose Tyler with Sherlock and John." Anthea said, astonishing the detective inspector. "If you want to be back in central London as soon as possible, this is the best chance you have to take."

"Bloody hell, I'll be there. Just wait for me!" Lestrade cried, hanging up and racing back to the Powell Estate, still muttering about Sherlock Holmes and Rose Tyler the entire way.

At the same time, or perhaps a little while before or after, Molly nervously stared at the soldiers posted along the corridor as she headed to the morgue and was confronted by General Asquith and his team once she was inside, blocking her view of the body lying on the slab, though she could see the doctor in scrubs behind them. "Who are you?" General Asquith asked.

"I'm Molly Hooper, the current specialist registrar on duty." She said, showing him her name tag and even her ID as the other doctor looked up in interest.

One of the soldiers examined her credentials and nodded as General Asquith said, "I'm sorry, Ms. Hooper, but Dr. Toshiko Sato will be taking over."

"Um, excuse me, I could use some assistance here." Dr. Sato suddenly said, startling the other soldiers. "Perhaps Ms. Hooper would be willing to help?"

"I would be more than happy to assist." Molly said.

"Yes, all right." General Asquith nodded as he and his soldiers left. "Carry on."

"Thank you very much, Dr. Sato." Molly said, heading over to scrub up.

"You're quite welcome." Tosh said, adjusting her ear piece.

"…Whoo, that's a bloody hell of a relief." Dr. Owen Harper said on the other end of the line in Cardiff, and Tosh could swear she heard him tipping back a bottle of whiskey for a drink. "Now, let Ms. Hooper take the lead from now on, all right?"

"All right." Tosh said in a low voice and then looked up as Molly approached.

"Now then, Dr. Sato, um…so what are we dealing with here?" Molly asked, staring down at the body on the slab with curiosity overwhelming her. To examine an alien life form-Sherlock really would get a kick out of this, if only he hadn't gone missing.

"A swine-like form," Dr. Sato said, revealing the body.

"That's it? That's the alien who crash-landed…it doesn't seem right." Molly said, shaking her head and looking up at Dr. Sato. "How can that be possible?"

"Believe me, alien life forms can be of all shapes and sizes and some of them do look similar to species that developed on our own planet. Some of them might have even evolved from life-forms that can be found on our planet." Tosh said, meeting Molly's gaze. "It's spectacular once you think about it."

"Right then, have you begun any incisions?" Molly asked.

"Not yet. I was going to do that after a physical examination and X-rays." Tosh said, "Just to get a better look at and understanding of its anatomy. The X-rays are over there, you can see them for yourself."

"Right." Molly said, heading over to the X-ray display to examine them herself, her head still reeling a bit. "It looks almost normal from what I remember of biology and dissection classes." Molly said, checking them again. "It's almost identical to pig anatomy, except for the head." She frowned to herself. "Dr. Sato, I don't know anything about alien biology, but does any of this look artificial to you?"

"What do you mean?" Tosh asked, coming over to check the head X-ray as Owen cursed on the other end of the line, having spilled some whiskey on himself. "Um…I mean, it doesn't look normal, it's just—different." She winced. "I don't really know." She admitted. "I haven't really examined a body before." Owen was groaning now.

"Dr.—Toshiko Sato, do you mean to say that you're not a real doctor?" Molly asked, gaping at her.

"I'm just covering for someone who couldn't make it. He's here." Tosh said, tapping her ear piece and showing it to Molly, "Advising me. And my name is Tosh, or at least that's what I prefer. I'm the resident technology expert with my branch. I've seen and even dealt with aliens and alien artifacts before, but not like this."

"Bloody hell, why do you have to blab everything?" Owen groaned on the other end of the line, not really paying attention.

"He?" Molly asked, staring at Tosh, who slowly nodded. "Ah, I've got you. I've felt the same about another bloke."

"What did she say?" Owen asked, perplexed.

"Nothing." Tosh said, taking out the ear piece and turning it off. "I'm sorry for all of this, really I am, but can you please help me?" She asked Molly. "I can't afford to let him down."

"All right, I suppose I will." Molly said, smiling in a sad way. She knew the feeling well.


	11. Aliens in Parliament

**Author Note: Canon changes in store!**

The junior secretary for the Ministry of Defense, Indra Ganesh, had just fended off Harriet Jones, MP for Flydale North, from coming upstairs when he heard the harsh voice of the Iceman call, "Mr. Ganesh? Where is he?" Mr. Ganesh flinched and prayed that he would get through this trial alive as he turned to face Mycroft Holmes. "I have been waiting, quite patiently I must tell you, for an hour or more to see the prime minister. I don't like to be kept waiting."

"I agree with you there." Harriet Jones remarked quietly to herself. She didn't quite understand what was going on here or who this other man was, though she understood that he was self-important and important at the same time with the way he acted and the reaction he got.

"I'm sorry, sir, I don't know where he is." Mr. Ganesh said, startling Harriet Jones who had not expected to hear such a horrible thing.

"You lost the prime minister in the middle of an international, public crisis with aliens? How can you lose the prime minister?" Mycroft said.

"Surely there must be some way of getting in touch with him or a member of his entourage?" Harriet Jones asked, causing Mycroft and Mr. Ganesh to stare at her. "What about some kind of schedule or record of where he was supposed to have been or last seen? He can't have vanished without a trace."

"Very sensible and pragmatic." Mycroft muttered, half complimentary and half sarcastic.

"Thank you very much." Harriet Jones said, annoyed as she understood his tone at least.

"We've tried everything, ma'am, but he has vanished in the middle of being transported here." Mr. Ganesh said.

"Either this is the grossest negligence possible or something has gone horribly wrong here." Mycroft said. "It can't be a coincidence that this happened today. He must have been abducted or worse. Have you questioned the transportation staff thoroughly? What about the emergency protocols?"

"I know, sir, we are preparing for every exigency in this case." Mr. Ganesh said. "We have questioned everyone on the transportation staff thoroughly. No one has confessed or shown the slightest signs of deceit in their statements. Our best men are looking for him as we speak. We'll get to the bottom of it, I swear, we'll have him back soon."

"You better pray you do." Mycroft muttered, unnerving the other man and arousing Harriet Jones's curiosity. Who was this man to command such fear and respect? A member of MI6 perhaps or another "My brother has returned, by the way, with the Doctor in tow." Mycroft added. "Do you think his services might be required?"

"Why do we need a doctor and what does your brother have to do with anything?" Harriet Jones asked, but was ignored.

"The Doctor? As in UNIT's Doctor?" Indra Ganesh gaped at Mycroft, who slowly nodded. "Oh yes indeed, we are certainly going to need him. We are assembling a team of the country's top experts in extraterrestrial affairs as we speak to deal with the crisis. Please have him come as soon as possible. Until then, the emergency protocols are in place, we have airlifts scheduled for Cabinet members, and Joseph Green has been called upon to take up the prime minister's duties until he is relieved. Now, if you will excuse me, here comes Mr. Green." Mr. Ganesh went off to deal with the acting prime minister as Harriet Jones and Mycroft Holmes stepped off to the side.

"Bit short-sighted of them not to have some member of the cabinet close at hand so that they don't have to resort to calling in Joseph Green, is it not?" Harriet asked, trying to turn it into a joke.

"Yes, exactly what I thought." He turned to face her and managed to smile. "Mycroft Holmes, the Iceman as some people call me. And you are Harriet Jones, MP of Flydale North? Yes, I heard."

"Iceman? That sounds fascinating." Harriet Jones said, shaking hands with him. "You're the type of person we need upstairs, I think."

"My job is too important to risk for this level of visibility, but thank you." Mycroft muttered.

"Sorry if I was talking too loudly earlier. I've gotten used to shouting, I'm afraid, to be heard in Parliament and nobody knows you here if you're a back-bencher like me. People used to recognize me back home on occasion. I had gotten quite a following with my cottage hospital push to add on to centers of excellence."

"It's no trouble at all and your cottage hospital idea does sound rather nice." Mycroft managed to say, almost choking on his words, but he had to get them out when he needed some kind of scapegoat and excuse, vague though it was, to find his way upstairs. "Perhaps I can help you find a way to get upstairs with me and submit your proposal."

"All right, I'll take it." Harriet Jones nodded and the pair of them set off together, sneaking through secret passageways and past security into the cabinet room. "This is amazing." Harriet Jones said, glancing about.

"You learn a few secrets with a life like mine." Mycroft glanced around and frowned at the briefcase left on the table. "That shouldn't be there. Joseph Green is either more careless than I thought or he's not even bothering with the emergency protocols."

"That's a bad sign. Can I have a look at them?" Harriet Jones asked, approaching the briefcase.

Mycroft frowned, studying Ms. Jones intently for a moment in judgment of her character before he nodded. "Go ahead. At least someone here aside from myself and Mr. Ganesh should be aware of the emergency protocols."

"Thank you." Harriet Jones said, sitting down and opening the briefcase to stare in awe at the documents before she began to peruse them.

"Just be aware that as a representative member of Parliament, you have an active interest on behalf of the country to see that they are carried through to the best of your ability." Mycroft said as he began to search for any clues, documentation that might be related to the prime minister's disappearance, leaving her alone with the emergency protocols. "Joseph Green certainly doesn't seem to be the type of person who is going to follow through here, but I have some faith in you."

"I will try my best, sir, to reward that faith in me." She murmured as she continued to read and memorize them.

"See that you do. Hmm, this detective work should really have gone to my brother." Mycroft murmured. "I should have gotten ahold of him and the Doctor as soon as they arrived back here. But I was so concerned with clearing up the Rose Tyler matter that it distracted me from realizing that if they were here, especially the Doctor, then surely some trouble must follow them."

"Are they detectives, your brother and this Doctor? Or are they both alien experts, as Mr. Ganesh said?" Harriet asked.

"You might say they are both." Mycroft said.

"Fascinating stuff." Harriet Jones added.

Meanwhile, the Doctor had grown tired of sitting on his backside watching telly, with a whole herd of humans surrounding him, laughing and cheering about the alien invasion. This wasn't his normal style or method of finding things out, trying to pick up any useful information from the scant details they were offering him and anyone else watching. He wanted to get out and explore, get a fuller picture of what was going on here and investigate things up close. For that, he needed to get over there right now.

He should have left before with Sherlock and John before any of this happened and it all blew up in his face, but he was so worried about Rose and her mum that he hadn't thought anything could go wrong or that he might be needed elsewhere. That wasn't usual or natural of him to be so concerned with domestic affairs, but Rose was important to him, the first person he had cared about in a while, and so he had decided to be nice to her and Sherlock and John as well.

He thought they all deserved a break, a chance to relax, rest, and recuperate on their own with the shock and upset of finding out that they had inadvertently been gone for a month. Plus, he felt like the boys needed some breathing space, having discovered that they were in love with each other, they might want their privacy. But now he felt like he had been deserted and abandoned, forced to fend for himself in no-man's land with no choice but to go.

Something was wrong here, he knew, it was all just too perfect and odd for him. Something definitely felt off and he had to find out what they were dealing with here. He started to leave, hoping to get away without Rose noticing because he felt like it would be better if he was by himself in these initial steps of investigating this mysterious alien.

He didn't know anything about the situation and it might be dangerous for Rose, more so than it had been before. He didn't want to risk losing her, not now, and she had been in danger more than enough already. Perhaps it might be safer for her to stay here at home. And part of him wanted to get away from noisy, nosy humans for a while when he had suffered through hours of mindless, tedious news coverage and partying.

However, having been informed by Mickey that the Doctor was ducking out, Rose caught him and he made a great speech about humanity being bits of clay and gave Rose her own TARDIS key to distract her from the fact that he was going. His heart broke a little bit, betraying Rose like this, but he had to go and be on his own when—suddenly, they felt a great blast of wind and heard a faint whirring noise growing louder, like a storm. They both looked up and gaped at the helicopter coming down with a rope ladder being dropped into the courtyard below.

"Hello, Doctor, Rose. Mycroft wants you." They heard Sherlock's voice call out over the sound of the blades.

The Doctor laughed. "Looks like the cavalry's arrived. Come on!" The Doctor and Rose rushed down to grab hold of the rope ladder and climb abroad the helicopter, while Mickey, Jackie, and a bunch of other people came out to gape at the sight.

"Rose! Rose! Where are you going? Come back here!" Jackie called to her.

"She's gone swamming off again, off on another adventure." Mickey sighed and shook his head.

For a moment, he envied her, yet he wasn't certain if he could handle gallivanting off like that, probably on some kind of dangerous mission with the Doctor and Mycroft and Sherlock Holmes involved. He didn't know how that Dr. John Watson could stand it either, unless…Mickey frowned to himself and shook his head, though now he wondered if Sherlock and John were involved with each other. It would be odd, though not unbelievable. He was starting to believe in a lot of different things these days.

"I don't like this one bit." Jackie murmured. "Is this from Sherlock's brother, Mycroft Holmes or whatever his name is?"

"You've got that right. He's way up in the British government hierarchy, probably below the prime minister himself, but very hush-hush, top secret." Mickey told Jackie, agape at him. "He tried to recruit me when he stole back his brother's laptop, the one with all the top secret files on the alien Doctor. I told you the truth, Jackie, last month, but you wouldn't listen to me."

"I suppose not. Oh my god, that Doctor is an alien? Rose is with an alien?" Jackie whispered, alarmed.

"Sorry about picking you guys up like this without any notice." John managed to say as he and Sherlock greeted the Doctor and Rose, with Anthea briefly glancing at the two of them before returning to her phone. "We didn't have any way of contacting you."

"Oh, that reminds me! Here, give me your phones." The Doctor said, snapping his fingers. Sherlock and John shrugged and handed the devices over as the Doctor got out his sonic screwdriver and zapped their phones. "There, instant upgrade, universal roaming with contacts for the TARDIS and Rose's phone as well. Now we don't have to lose touch with each other again."

"Brilliant." Sherlock said, grinning as he examined his device. "Sheer brilliance."

"Wait! Wait for me!" Lestrade cried, huffing as he raced across the estate to the helicopter with Mickey and a bunch of other people laughing as they watched the scene, though Jackie couldn't enjoy it. It was the most embarrassing thing the detective inspector had ever experienced. He would make John and Sherlock or Mycroft or whoever was responsible for this shenanigan pay dearly. Lestrade climbed abroad, collapsing onto the floor of the craft just before they left.

"Are you okay?" John asked, checking on the DI.

"Aside from a minor heart attack, yes. Thanks for nothing." Lestrade gasped. "You all could have at least come pick me up without having me run all this way."

"This was the most efficient way to pick you all up without wasting fuel on side trips." Anthea commented.

"I should have known you were to blame." Lestrade muttered, glaring at her. Sometimes he wondered if Mycroft's assistant had it in for him, perhaps because they both fancied the same person. "And what are these two doing here?" He pointed at Rose and the Doctor.

"Technically they, or at least the Doctor, are the reason why my brother allowed me to have this helicopter transport us, so be grateful for that much at least and show some respect." Sherlock said.

"I'm grateful." Lestrade muttered. "Though I wish that wasn't the only reason why." He earned an odd glance from everybody who didn't understand while Anthea smirked.

"Thanks for getting us out of there." The Doctor told Sherlock and John. "I thought I would regenerate out of boredom."

"No problem at all." Sherlock said, acting magnanimous as John stifled a laugh.

Rose lightly punched the Doctor, not certain what he was talking about, though. "It wasn't all bad. You have to admit that at least my mum made you feel welcome after a little while."

"She tolerated me, that's all." The Doctor said dismissively and then groaned. "I can't believe I'm getting involved in a domestic dispute."

John laughed. "It'll be okay, Doctor, you'll make it through."

"First stop, St. Barts." Sherlock said. "My associate Dr. Molly Hooper is performing the alien autopsy. I can get us straight in."

"We can get you straight in. I still hold some sway with New Scotland Yard, after all." Lestrade said, not wanting to be left out, even though he didn't quite know who this Doctor bloke was. But if he was important to Mycroft and knew something about this alien menace, then Lestrade would not disappoint.

"Of course." Sherlock scoffed. They soon landed at St. Barts and the large group headed downstairs, only to be confronted by a group of UNIT soldiers.

Sherlock, Lestrade, Anthea, the Doctor and even John got involved in a shouting match as they presented various credentials, official orders, and tried to talk on top of each other, confusing the soldiers for a moment as Rose stood to the side, not wanting to be a bother. Then they all heard a couple of screams, the Doctor shouted something about defense plan Delta, and they were all running down the hospital corridors to the morgue, John, Sherlock, and Lestrade in particular concerned about something being wrong with Molly.

Lestrade and Anthea told the soldiers to stay back with the Doctor, Sherlock, John and Rose slipping into the morgue. Molly and another woman, whose head was bleeding and appeared to be dazed, were crouched in a corner by the wall.

"Sherlock? John? Thank god you're back." Molly asked, looking up at them. "Who are your friends?"

"They're here to help. Hello, Molly, doctor, what seems to be the trouble?" John asked.

"It's alive." Molly sighed, alerting the others who started to peer about. "This is Tosh Sato. She's not a real doctor, just covering for someone, and she didn't make a proper examination."

"I thought it would be easy enough." Tosh whispered.

"Idiot." Sherlock muttered. "And they're idiots for letting you in here."

"Don't be so rude." Rose said, punching Sherlock.

"Ow! You really do hit hard." Sherlock muttered, rubbing himself.

"As soon as we cut into it, the creature woke up. It panicked and lashed out, striking Tosh before it got away, but it's still in here." Molly said. "Somewhere in here."

"Hold on." The Doctor said, nodding towards the other edge of the room. "I think it's there. You three," He pointed to Sherlock, John, and Rose, "Spread out, keep the exit and these two covered, I'm going to try talking to it and see if I can calm it down. Maybe we can get it out of here safely."

The Doctor proceeded and the other three followed directions, fanning out to keep everything covered as they watched and heard the Doctor talking to something. Suddenly, it darted out, and he cried, "Grab it, quick!"

Sherlock, John, and Rose launched at it and managed to grab on and not let the creature get outside of the room. It struggled against them, squealing and snorting, and as the light flashed on, they realized what they were holding, gaping at it.

"It's a pig!" Rose cried.

"It's not an alien, is it, Doctor?" Sherlock asked.

"No, it's not. Doesn't take a genius to figure out that. It's just your average Earth pig, enhanced and made to look alien." The Doctor said, turning to Molly and Tosh. "If you have any, I need to see your X-rays. I want to see exactly what they've done to him."

"Hold your fire! Stand down! At ease!" Lestrade and Anthea were shouting at the soldiers outside in the corridor, blocking them when it seemed like they were ready to storm in and start firing. The UNIT soldiers uneasily backed off, lowering their weapons.

"The situation is under control. We've got it." John shouted outside. "Thank you, gentlemen, we can take it from here."

The soldiers muttered amongst each other, but they slowly backed off and returned to their posts on sentry duty again. Lestrade and Anthea entered the morgue, staring in astonishment at the 'alien' creature, which was being caressed and calmed down by Rose and Tosh, who were slightly disgusted and wished they hadn't been saddled with this duty. Molly and John handled the X-rays, showing them to the Doctor and Sherlock.

"Unbelievable. I can't believe they've done this." The Doctor said, examining the minute detail of the brain scan. "They seem to have shifted and enhanced some parts of the brain, but not all of them. Most of them are what you might call physical and biological enhancements to make the pig more humanoid and therefore more alien to humans."

"So encountering the alien pig, people treat it as such and don't think otherwise." Sherlock muttered, shaking his head as he examined the charts and concentrated his thoughts. "Unbelievable is right."

"It's not a real alien?" Lestrade gasped, gaping at the creature. "But the spaceship is alien!"

"The spaceship is alien all right." The Doctor said. "Or at least not something that can be found on 21st century Earth."

"Could the pig have piloted the craft?" Anthea asked, curious.

Meanwhile, Sherlock had retreated into his mind palace, aware of what was going on around him and absorbing everything people were saying. However, most of his focus and concentration was on collecting, assembling, rearranging, and trying to make sense out of the data presented to him. John noticed what was going on with Sherlock, but left him alone as he worked best when completely focused.

"No, intelligence levels haven't increased significantly." The Doctor added. "It's not advanced enough to have piloted the spaceship all by itself. Someone else was controlling the ship."

"Was the government involved in this?" Rose asked. "Or that Torchwood whatever that had files on the Doctor, maybe even UNIT? Don't they have access to real live alien spaceships that crash landed here?"

"It wasn't Torchwood." Tosh said, gazing up at her and the others. "I should know. They weren't involved in this, they were caught unaware. They believe that this is real."

"Good to know." John said, intrigued as he wondered who Tosh was and her involvement with Torchwood. Sherlock flinched at the sound of John's voice, but remained in his trance.

"And this certainly was not government involvement." Anthea said. "I know that as well. Mycroft has his hands in everything, and he wasn't involved here. Certainly no other governments were involved as well."

"Not even Mycroft, Sherlock, or any other 21st century human has the technology to create these brain enhancements." The Doctor said, turning back to the others. "The technology involved here is alien. Real aliens created this fake alien."

"How do you know that?" Lestrade asked. "How are you such an alien expert and know so much about their technology?"

"Because I am an alien, not to mention a time traveler. My expertise here is second to none." The Doctor said, stunning a few people here. "That's why Mycroft needs me."

"Why would these aliens go to all of this trouble of creating a fake alien crashing a real alien spaceship, their spaceship?" John asked, disrupting Sherlock's thoughts. "It doesn't make any sense."

"A decoy to cover up their invasion by making it public." Sherlock whispered, his eyes opening as he came out of his mind palace. "And the spaceship didn't crash, not exactly. They controlled a smooth landing into the Thames."

"Welcome back, Sherlock Holmes." The Doctor said, causing John to smile. Even the Doctor was aware of Sherlock's mind palace now.

"They parked their spaceship in the river?" Molly asked.

"Precisely, right where they needed it to be." Sherlock said and paused. "They're here in London, right by the river to gain easy access to their spaceship. Why else would it land here?"

The others gaped at Sherlock as the news dawned on them. "Parliament is right by the river, close to where the spaceship landed with the clock tower getting swiped at." The Doctor remarked, earning a few more startled, horrified looks from the others. "And I've been watching the news all day long, of all the days. The prime minister has gone missing. The Cabinet members aren't here. There are only a few Parliament members currently in control of the government. London and the British government itself is vulnerable. The perfect target, especially if the aliens are already here, installed in position, maybe in Parliament itself."

"You're joking." Rose said, shaking her head. "The aliens have got control of the British government? Is that possible?"

Anthea frowned. "Protocols would be in place to prevent unlawful usurpation of power, but with a panic and fear spreading throughout the country and the rest of the world, who knows what could happen? What they could do with such power?"

"We've got to stop them." Lestrade suddenly said, getting serious. "If the aliens are there and they've gotten control of the government, we've got to stop them before they do any harm."

"And my brother is there." Sherlock said, getting out his mobile. "Maybe he can help us if he hasn't been helping the aliens or is an alien himself." He laughed harshly, but the others hushed as they wondered if it could be true.

At that moment, Mycroft Holmes and Harriet Jones had retreated to the Parliament cabinet room closet, hiding as General Asquith raged at Joseph Green, Margaret Blaine, and Charles Oliver until the trio started farting and unzipping. Two pairs of eyes widened at the sight of the huge aliens that emerged from the rotund human skins, like flabby suits, and then they launched themselves at General Asquith.

Mycroft and Harriet winced as they smoothly sliced off the general's skin and then devoured his body. When they were done, they suited up again, only this time, the alien that had been inside Charles Oliver switched into wearing General Asquith, struggling to get into the skin suit for the first time and farting all the while. The human pair flinched as Charles Oliver's skin was thrown into the closet on top of them, but they didn't make a sound as the trio left the cabinet.

Finally, Mycroft and Harriet Jones emerged, gasping as they felt wretched, like they might retch over everything. "Is this what happened to the prime minister?" Harriet Jones asked.

"I'm afraid it's possible. We might-" Mycroft shook his head as he felt his mobile vibrating, glad that he had not set it to ring. He checked who it was and answered, "What have you found out?"

"We are under the impression-" Sherlock checked himself as he heard the harried tone in Mycroft's voice and found himself unusually concerned. "Is something the matter? What happened?"

"Aliens are in Downing Street, right at the top." Mycroft said, stiff. "Joseph Green is not human anymore. He is an alien wearing Green's skin like a set of clothing. The same is true of Margaret Blaine, one of MI5's top advisors and now General Asquith of UNIT. I don't know who else."

"I see. We figured something like that with the spaceship landed in the river close by. Joseph Green, Margaret Blaine, and General Asquith. Got it. We'll be there soon." Sherlock said, voices buzzing on Sherlock's end.

"It's not safe, you know." Mycroft said, unreasonably worried and beside himself. "You'll be killed, you and the Doctor and anyone else who get in here. It's a trap, I think. The alien experts are meeting downstairs with the aliens presiding."

"I think we can handle it. Take care of yourself, and good bye." Sherlock said, hanging up his mobile phone and inhaling deeply before he faced the others. "Mycroft is scared. I never thought-" He laughed to himself while the others who knew Mycroft exchanged worried glances.

"Don't worry, Sherlock." John said, approaching and hugging him. "We'll get Mycroft out of there." Sherlock hugged him tightly in turn, feeling unbalanced by the sensation of his older brother being in serious trouble.

"It's a trap. They're having a meeting of alien experts, Mycroft said." Sherlock said, turning to the Doctor and the others.

"And they're walking right into it, helpless." The Doctor slowly nodded. "UNIT, Torchwood, and whoever else…all right, then, let's go. Who's more of an expert on aliens here than I am?" He asked, turning to Anthea. "You're going to arrange a ride for all of us, right?"

"Affirmative." Anthea said and made the call, despite her own fears about her boss being in danger.

"You can't go, Rose." The Doctor said.

"Same goes for you, John." Sherlock added. Both Rose and John protested vehemently, loudly and threatening enough, however, that both Sherlock and the Doctor reluctantly agreed to let them go, eying each other with a sigh. They didn't want the people they loved getting hurt.

"What is going to happen to it?" Molly asked, indicating the pig.

The Doctor sighed and shook his head. "Well, I will try to save it, take it someplace where it can live peacefully without being experimented upon, but I'm worried about its ability to function, its quality of life. I don't know how sustainable these enhancements are, if he—and it's a male—can live in such a manner. Maybe he'll live for years more or days, depends on the adjustments he can make."

Tosh, petting the pig, said, "But you can't take care of it right now, not when it sounds like you and the others are going to storm Parliament."

"You're right about that." The Doctor remarked, glancing over at Rose and the others. He wondered if they would make it out of this thing alive.

"Can I take care of him, just for a little while?" Tosh asked. "I promise to take good care of him, and I won't let anything happen to him."

"I'll help, if that's all right with you." Molly said. Tosh slowly nodded.

"All right, do your best." The Doctor nodded, glad at least that Tosh and Molly would stay behind, two less people to worry about. "Maybe try feeding him a bit, see what he likes. I'll be back for him soon, hopefully in a few hours, though it depends." He didn't want to worry them too much.

"We'll call Molly when we come pick him up." John said, smiling at the two women as he shook their hands. "Thank you for helping out. Sorry to leave you two like this, but we'll be back. Take care of yourselves, beware of possible evil aliens. Good-bye!" He and the others left, ready to take on aliens in Parliament as Sherlock wrapped his arm around John, glad at least that his doctor could remain so upbeat. A disguise at least to hide how terrified they were.


	12. Yeti in the Loo

**Author's Note: It's less than a week away now! Yay! And before we get to that day of the Twelfth Doctor's first adventure airing on television, here is the Aliens of London conclusion for Sherlock, John, and the Doctor, although it's been changed a little bit. Enjoy.**

Sherlock adjusted his collar, his steely eyes ablaze as he concentrated on his mind palace and attempted to organize all of his thoughts on the alien invasion of Downing Street. He analyzed the data he did know about recent events, which was sorely limited and partly outdated due to his one-month absence here. He did not have the time he needed to acquaint himself with all of the necessary details and information, but he did try his best to determine what did and did not fit the pattern of the alien incursion that had breached the top level of government.

They would reach Downing Street soon, and he had to mentally prepare for the potential confrontation. He was willing to bet those aliens would be prepared to meet any resistance with brute force, cunning, and even sharp teeth and claws from his brother's description of them. By their very nature, they seemed equipped to deal with any threats to their plans and their deceptive means of disguise was a virtual guarantee they could slip into any avenue of access, provided they found the right match for their bulk.

Right now his brother's life was at risk, those aliens could find him out, and maybe John's life would be endangered as well since the man might risk himself trying to protect them. He wished John had stayed behind for his own safety, but the man was stubborn and wanted to be there to help, ridiculous and irrational though it might have been. Possibly the fate of Britain if not the planet would be hanging in the balance as well, as there had to be some plot with a goal in mind for these aliens to have gone through these elaborate maneuvers and shenanigans to get into prime position.

Sherlock did not really count his own life as one of those that might be endangered here, because he was fully prepared to risk it in order to prevent this alien plot from succeeding. He wanted to make sure that his mental faculties were in top form, because failing and missing something important at such a crucial juncture could be devastating to him and everyone else. He was not willing to face failure at this point.

The Doctor would be of great help to him, or vice versa depending on who would be handling the alien menace, but he could not totally rely on the Doctor to be on hand and deal with every emergency. He would have to be there as well, and maybe everyone else at this point. Maybe John's help would be necessary, though Sherlock hated the thought of him risking his life when he valued it so much above his own now.

John flexed and stretched himself as much as he was able to in the cramped car with six people in the back. He had a feeling that this was going to be a tough case that could take a physical toll on him and he wasn't as young as he used to be. He needed to get into better physical shape, especially if they were going to stay with the Doctor for the long haul.

With just a few adventures under his belt, he had started to learn the importance of keeping up with everybody, with all of the activity they went through. He wondered if the TARDIS had a gym somewhere. It was bound to, he figured at some point the Doctor or someone would have wanted to exercise on there, though he had not had much chance of exploring the spaceship. He hoped that he would get that chance, but it depended on whether or not he and the others survived, a grim thought he didn't want to dwell on.

He noticed how much Sherlock was concentrating, in his mind palace again, so John didn't bother him right now. He figured that Sherlock was in 'hog heaven', apt though crude the term might be, enjoying himself or at least thoroughly intrigued and invested in the case. Mycroft was in danger, of course, probably they all would be soon, but John figured that Sherlock could handle this problem, especially with the Doctor around to help. There was no need to worry too much, just remain concerned enough to stay focused on the task at hand. They could handle it together.

The Doctor had gotten out his sonic screwdriver, examining the device to make sure that it was in tip-top shape. Who knows when he might need it? The boys were limbering up, a good sign that they were taking things seriously. He smiled at Rose to reassure her and she smiled back, despite her own fear and anxiety. It was one thing to walk into a trap, ignorant of what was going on, but to actually go in with full knowledge of what might be waiting for them there was mind-numbingly scary. She didn't know if she could handle it.

Lestrade was making a call to inform Donovan that New Scotland Yard should be on full alert with suspect activity inside Downing Street itself. However, he wouldn't tell her just what was going on there when it was a bit unbelievable, even for him after what he had just seen with the fake alien.

"Get the news out, though discretely, that there is something wrong." He paused now and again as Donovan spoke. "The prime minister is missing, did you know that? It's not something they've advertising, but the news is out there. A coup has taken place and an unstable faction has taken over—yes, I know it doesn't sound right, it sounds crazy, but believe me, it's true. Downing Street has been compromised and we need to organize ourselves to face that trouble. Good-bye." Lestrade hung up, sighing. "She doesn't believe me. No one will."

"It's not going to be easy to convince people." Anthea remarked, tapping on her mobile. "Harriet Jones, MP for Flydale North, will be meeting you all inside Downing Street—here's a picture," She showed them on her mobile display. "Mycroft will stay upstairs, out of the way."

"You're not coming with us?" Rose asked.

"I have to stay on top of Mycroft's affairs and alert all other governments to beware any high commands from Downing Street." Anthea said. "They must know, from a source they can trust, that they cannot trust Joseph Green and his alien coterie. Mycroft's name and influence has some pull that can alienate Downing Street from the rest of the world."

"Sounds good to me, one less thing to worry about." The Doctor said.

"Sensible and cowardly of him, just what I expect from my brother." Sherlock muttered, examining the picture of Harriet Jones as Lestrade glared at him, wanting to defend Mycroft's decision. "Interesting woman." Sherlock said of her. "Fairly ordinary in manner, insecure and feeling out of place, as she probably never expected she would become so heavily involved in politics. It was just an interest she developed and she worked at it to secure a place, though a miniscule one."

"Harriet Jones, why does that name sound familiar?" The Doctor asked himself, though he listened intently to Sherlock Holmes's analysis, like everyone else.

"She does have an inner drive and ambition that brought her to Parliament, campaigning for a cause, probably dear to her heart, yet she never expected she would succeed." Sherlock said. "She's not used to being noticed or succeeding. She always has to stand up and assert herself, despite her anxiety. Currently divorced, no children, an unhappy marriage that she forced her way out of, good for her. She must be very brave to take on such a risk, coming downstairs out of their hiding place to greet us. Fascinating."

"He's correct in his analysis of her." Anthea said, having checked her file.

"Didn't expect otherwise." John smiled at his lover.

"We still have to try to convince people." Rose said, turning to Anthea. "We don't have much in the way of proof, but if we just get people to doubt what's going on, maybe they won't blindly accept it."

"She's right." The Doctor said, nodding. "Rose has got it right. Everyone, listen to me. When we get in there, if you meet any of those alien experts, tell them 'Yeti in the loo'. It's a code for alien infiltrators, and it might put them on alert."

"Yeti in the loo? Unbelievable," Lestrade shook his head, but he decided to at least give it a go since it might help. He would probably feel ridiculous, though, despite the situation.

"Here are the photos of the known aliens, according to Mycroft." Anthea said, showing them political photos of the people the aliens impersonated. "Memorize them well, they will be there and you might encounter them. Be cautious and do not reveal your knowledge of their true identities, otherwise you might blow your cover."

Almost everyone was prepared for such an eventuality through military, police, and investigative training, although Rose had to stiffen herself up a bit for the possibility. Aside from Cassandra, she had never truly confronted anyone who was a killer.

"Wasn't there something about Yeti in the Underground back in the 60s?" John asked as Sherlock nodded.

"We must be cautious here." Sherlock added, trying to imply the danger inherent in the situation. "They've been organizing things for a while now to get into prime position. They must have a great understanding of British politics and policy, far more than the average person, to know whom to impersonate that would get them into Downing Street."

"In plus sizes." Rose added, trying to get a laugh.

"The timing had to be right to strand necessary members of the cabinet outside the city, and they had to get access to the prime minister at the same time for their plan to work, an ingenious move on their part." Sherlock continued. "Then there was the matter of the spaceship, which they must have programmed to land in such a spectacular manner, and the pig—a joke, a hoax, which shows a deviant sense of humor in how they mutilated and manipulated such an animal, almost as an insult against humans. They won't be kind and merciful."

"Got it." John said, nodding to reassure his lover. "We'll be careful."

"Terrible sense of humor, though." Rose remarked, nodding and grinning. "Let's get them with their trousers down and pants showing." The others grimly chuckled.

They had arrived at 10 Downing Street, and piled out of the car, with the exception of Anthea, who wished them all good luck as Lestrade and some of the others nodded at her, John giving her a short smile and wave. Reporters were outside and the Doctor greeted them with big smiles and a wave, as did John in his discreet fashion with Rose laughing a little bit. But Sherlock and Lestrade basically kept their heads down, not wanting to talk to anyone. Sherlock wished that he could have gotten himself a hat to hide under.

Some reporters recognized Lestrade, and questioned him as to New Scotland Yard's methods in silencing riots and their involvement in this alien matter, whether there would be an investigation into the prime minister's noted absence. But Lestrade gave them no comment as he and the others entered Downing Street, already on full alert as they observed aliens in disguise surrounding them and searched for any sign of Harriet Jones.

Mickey and Jackie were watching the news coverage in Jackie's flat, having spent some time talking about the alien Doctor and Rose's involvement with him and Sherlock, when they caught the live footage. "Rose and the others are at Downing Street?" Mickey gaped at the screen. "Oh man, I wish I had gone with them."

"I've got to call everybody." Jackie said, getting up to spread the news when she heard a knock on the door. She answered to find a police officer outside.

"Might I come in and have a word with you, Ms. Tyler?" The police officer said, farting. "Oh, pardon me. I got an alert about an alien expert in the area, the Doctor. Is he here?"

"You missed him." Jackie Tyler said. "Left with my daughter and Sherlock Holmes and some Detective Inspector Lestrade ages ago. Now go away."

However, the police officer thrust his foot in the doorway when Jackie tried to close it. "I'm afraid I must insist." He added, forcing his way in. Mickey stood up in the living room, nervous as he retreated backwards and hid inside Rose's bedroom, watching the situation unfold and wondering what was happening here.

"You can't come in here." Jackie said, feeling nervous. Meanwhile, a similar situation was developing on the other side of the city with another officer being sent to Sherlock's flat, another looking for Mycroft Holmes, who had not been since he presumably left Downing Street, and a third approached Sergeant Donovan.

As Sherlock and the others arrived, security questioned and searched them with Indra Ganesh and other officials standing by to receive and greet the alien experts. As soon as the Doctor and Sherlock Holmes identified themselves, Indra Ganesh smiled and approached them, offering them special access status badges. Sherlock held his badge between thumb and forefinger like an offensive thing, examining it closely.

"This thing looks odd. It seems thicker than usual." Sherlock remarked.

"Special coating." Indra Ganesh shrugged, moving on.

"It's just a badge, Sherlock, put it on or they'll kick us out of here." John murmured, attaching his and smiling at some of the aliens while feeling sick to his stomach.

The Doctor took his badge off to examine it. "Hey, you know, you're right." The Doctor said, sweeping it over with his sonic screwdriver, the others grouped around to hide the alien device. His face paled at the results. "Uh-oh. There's a special circuit in these badges that can pack quite a wallop, enough voltage to kill a human."

The others froze, fearing the worst. "All of them?" Rose shuddered, carefully peeling off her badge like a grenade. The Doctor quickly scanned hers and the others in quick succession, checking the results.

He breathed a sigh of relief. "Just myself and Sherlock. We got the special access badges as alien experts. Mycroft must have indicated Sherlock was one."

"Thank you very much, Mycroft." Sherlock muttered, glancing around for a way of disposing his badge without the aliens seeing.

"He didn't know this would happen." John said. "And it's because of him that we're aware of the extent of the situation."

"I guessed at some of it." Sherlock indignantly said.

"Of course you did, I didn't mean to belittle that." John said.

"The rest of you just got standard badges. You're fine, only Sherlock and me would have gotten shocked." The Doctor grinned.

"Better get rid of it then and warn the experts." Sherlock remarked, discreetly tossing his into a garbage can.

"You're right about that." The Doctor, however, attached his badge back on.

"Aren't you going to get rid of it?" Lestrade asked.

"You forget, I'm not human." The Doctor said, standing stiffly at attention. "It won't kill me."

"But won't it hurt?" Rose asked, staring up at him mournfully.

"It will hurt me, yeah, but I'll be fine." The Doctor managed to weakly smile. "Might come in handy to have something so powerful on me, though."

"A weapon." Sherlock said, eying the Time Lord, intrigued, skeptical, and guarded about the Time Lord's behavior.

The Doctor always seemed willing to martyr, sacrifice, and torture himself, all for the sake of what he had done in the past. But he still couldn't let go of the warrior mentality, prepared to fight when necessary with whatever was at hand to defend people. Sherlock recognized this for he had seen it before, especially with himself and John.

He hoped that the Doctor wouldn't needlessly sacrifice himself for a vain cause or misuse his power in a mistaken attempt to rectify the situation and attack the enemy. Sometimes it seemed to Sherlock that the Doctor so easily misjudged himself, despite his wide range of knowledge and acute mental skills, that it was a wonder he had ever managed to survive the numerous escapades and wars he had been through, or that his friends had survived along with him.

Of course, things had been different before the Time War. The Doctor must have been more capable of handling himself then before things fell apart around him and he changed so drastically, damaged by the war. But still, Sherlock was worried about the Doctor's survival capabilities now and how that would affect him and the others as well. If the Doctor could not handle himself, if he took a misstep or did something wrong, then that would be it. Earth and the universe, all of time and space, might be doomed. The Doctor truly did need help.

"You could call it that." The Doctor shifted, not wanting to talk about it. "Oh, look, Harriet Jones." The others turned around and spotted the woman approaching them. "Better get out of here with her, check up on Mycroft upstairs, and maybe find a way out of this situation." The Doctor added.

"Aren't you coming with us, Doctor?" Rose asked, concerned.

"I'll join you all later. I've still got to warn the others. Good luck." The Doctor said, smiling as he wandered off, not looking back at them.

"Be careful." Sherlock said. He and the others hesitated, wanting to help the Doctor, but eventually they went off with Harriet Jones. The Doctor didn't want their help, despite their good intentions. Humanity was probably doomed.

Harriet Jones introduced herself. "Yes, we know who you are, where's my brother?" Sherlock brusquely asked, angry about the entire situation when his instincts told him to go back, but for the sake of the others, he was willing to go upstairs.

"You must be Sherlock." Harriet managed to say, nodding. "He's upstairs this way." They followed her to the cabinet room.

"Brother, so good to see you. I wish it were under more pleasant, better circumstances." Mycroft said, nodding as he greeted the others. "And this must be Rose Tyler. Glad to make your acquaintance." He managed to smile.

"Likewise." Rose managed to say, creeped out by this strange fellow and unable to believe he was related to Sherlock, although there was a hint of something brilliantly wild in their eyes that might show their familial, fraternal relationship.

"All right, now is there any way we can get you out of here so that the Doctor and the rest of us can leave safely?" Sherlock asked Mycroft. "Anthea and Sergeant Donovan are helping to spread the news that Downing Street is compromised and should be isolated. The aliens won't have any more power here."

"I'm afraid to say that's unlikely so long as the aliens do exist." Mycroft said. "They will find a way to gain strength again. You've seen how readily they can disguise themselves."

"They still have to compromise with the bulk of the person." John remarked.

"While that may be true, it's still a potential liability." Mycroft said. "What's to stop them from leaving here and seeking other powerful bodies to inhabit? Not to mention the fact that while Downing Street might be isolated and cut off from the rest of the world, there are still powerful resources that they might be able to access and use against Britain and the rest of the world. You can't completely cut off their control."

Harriet Jones nodded and said, "Downing Street is pretty much impregnable as well in certain areas. According to the emergency protocols, which give detailed information as to the extent of the emergency powers held by Britain and Downing Street in a state of emergency, this is the government. No Parliamentary acts or resolutions are required, no other civil, governmental, or military powers can intervene, and of course the royal family are useless. They control everything here at this point and can act as they see fit. Hardly anything in this country would be able to stop them."

"Useless, pointless, utterly insane." Sherlock muttered, shaking his head.

"And we can't even countermand that authority? Go to another source? Why can't you take over, Mycroft?" John asked.

"That would be even worse!" Sherlock shouted as Lestrade frowned at him.

Mycroft smirked. "Much as I would like to, I cannot do that and compromise my own job and identity, if there is even a chance that we would make it out of here alive and whole. My job is too important to risk even for the sake of Downing Street."

"So we have to stop them, destroy them, right?" Rose asked.

"That may be the only way." Mycroft said.

The Doctor approached some UNIT officials, smiling as he whispered, ""Yeti in the loo here in Downing Street."

"I beg your pardon, but are you implying that there are hostile aliens here?" A UNIT official asked in a hiss.

"Yes, that's right." The Doctor continued smiling as he spoke in a low whisper. "Joseph Green, Margaret Blaine, and General Asquith are really aliens in disguise. They're not Zygons, though. Zygons aren't green and they don't wear body suits of the people they kill and eat." He snatched an hor d'ouevre off of a tray to eat as the others gaped at him.

"How do you know about Zygons?" Another UNIT official asked.

"I dealt with some up in Scotland back in the 70s, or was it the 80s? My mate Dr. Harry Sullivan was kidnapped and a Zygon changed itself to look like him for a bit." The Doctor said "Not to mention that whole Loch Ness monster mess here."

"Doctor, is that you?" The first official asked as the others stared at him wide-eyed in wonder.

"It's me and you better believe it." The Doctor said. "My suggestion would be to run like hell from here, although that might look suspicious. Instead, filing out in a nice, orderly fashion would help. Oh, and your special access badges have a circuit that will shock and kill you. So better get rid of the badges to be on the safe side, don't know about the range on them."

The UNIT officials murmured amongst each other, but quietly disposed of their badges and marched out of Downing Street, causing uproar amongst the paparazzi outside. Other alien experts followed suit, disturbed and puzzled by the whole affair, but they figured if UNIT was going, so would they.

"What are you doing? Where are you all going? Come back here, we need you!" Indra Ganesh cried, following after them, but when no one listened to him, he turned around and focused on the Doctor who remained behind. "You! What have you done? What did you say to them?"

"I told them the truth and if you were smart, you would listen to me, too." The Doctor said, facing the man. "Run, get out of here as fast as you can, and don't come back unless you want to die."

Indra Ganesh shook his head and ran upstairs, determined to get all of the guards downstairs to arrest this man. Margaret Blaine, curious about what he was doing, followed after him.

The Doctor sighed. "I did try to warn him." He was about to head upstairs himself to stop Margaret and get the others, when Joseph Green and General Asquith appeared.

"What is this? What's going on here? Why are they all leaving?" Joseph Green queried.

"They got a whiff of the air here. It stinks to high heaven and I think I know why." The Doctor said, turning around to face the aliens. "It's because of you lot, you and your diseased perfume. You think you've got the world wrapped around your finger, or claw I should say, but I know the truth and it's going to spread far beyond here." The aliens stiffened, staring at him. "The whole world will know that Downing Street is literally under attack from inside, beneath your skin suits. The aliens landed a long time ago."

"Brothers and sisters, it is time we ended this charade and revealed our true facades." General Asquith said, unveiling his zipper.

Upstairs, Lestrade was frantically looking around. "There's got to be something we can use to destroy these aliens-" He opened up a cupboard, and the dead minister fell out. "Oh, so that's what happened to him." He stared, along with everyone else, down at the dead body, Harriet Jones and Rose in particular were horrified.

"They stuffed him in the cupboard?" Sherlock frowned to himself. "That doesn't seem like the sort of tactic these aliens would use. They would eat him or dispose of his body in a more cunning fashion. This is more like the work of an amateur, or someone who doesn't really care if they are caught, for he would have been found eventually."

"Perhaps they had to hide his body in a hurry or risk being discovered and this was the most convenient hiding place they could find on short notice?" John asked.

"All right, that would make more sense." Sherlock said.

"Odd, though." Mycroft said as he and Lestrade examined the body. "He appears to have been strangled to death."

Sherloock shrugged. "Given how powerful you said they were, it would be a good, efficient, quick tactic of killing someone as silently as possible without a lot of blood. And maybe they weren't hungry or confident enough to take the time to eat him."

"I think I'm going to be sick." Rose said with Harriet Jones nodding in agreement.

"I'm afraid you get used to these things after a while." John grimaced.

"By the way, you didn't happen to kill the prime minister, did you, Mycroft?" Sherlock asked, shocking some of the others.

"Oh ye of little faith, I surely did not." Mycroft said.

"Well, how do I know you're not an alien yourself?" Sherlock asked. "You certainly are plump enough that they would have devoured you and worn your skin like a suit."

"Sherlock!" Both Lestrade and John shouted at him, offended that he could be so rude.

Mycroft scoffed. "You certainly are getting more paranoid, very good for you. I'm still human, but if you want, you can test me."

"The real Mycroft would know what I fear." Sherlock said, staring intently at him as everyone hushed.

"Redbeard." Mycroft said as everyone waited for Sherlock's response.

"Fair enough. Sorry that I doubted you there." Sherlock said, smiling as everyone stared at each other in confusion.

"Redbeard? What is he talking about?" John asked, but Sherlock did not feel like answering him then.

"No trouble at all." Mycroft said as Indra Ganesh arrived and stared down at the prime minister's body in horror.

"Oh my god, he's dead!" Indra cried and stared up at "You killed him, didn't you, Mycroft Holmes? Iceman? Murdering fiend!"

"Why does everyone always assume that I'm a killer?" Mycroft asked, pointing at his brother. "He's the sociopath here!"

"A high functioning sociopath, thank you very much." Sherlock said.

"I can't take much more of this." Harriet Jones said.

"Don't worry, you won't have to." Margaret Blaine smiled as she entered the room with almost everyone freezing and staring at her in horror now, except for Indra, who didn't know what was about to happen next.


	13. Hunting for Sport

**AN: So I just did World War Three in one chapter...yay! Hopefully I can do more one chapter stories later, because otherwise this thing might go on for awhile. Anyway, congratulations to Steven Moffat, Benedict Cumberbatch, and Martin Freeman for winning Emmys for Sherlock: His Last Vow. And Deep Breath was very good in my opinion, not great, but hopefully it's pointing in the right direction for where things are going this series. I enjoyed Peter Capaldi's performance immensely and looking forward to seeing the rest of the series. I wonder if Doctor Who would ever be nominated for Emmys here in the states? Maybe someday...(please excuse spelling mistakes and such, I'm using a WordPad right now. Will go back to regular Word later.)**

Indra Ganesh thrust himself forward to confront Margaret Blaine about the dead prime minister and she merely laughed at him before revealing the zipper in her forehad. Both Sherlock and Mycroft privately examined their surroundings, calculating their best chances for escape. Lestrade and John tightened their fists, prepared to fight their way out if need be. Rose and Harriet Jones helplessly stared in horror as Margaret changed and pinned Indra Ganesh to the wall, the closest one to her, strangulating him the same way the prime minister had died.

Sherlock shouted, "Go now! Run!"

The others started to run and alien Margaret attempted to swipe at them, but suddenly she screamed as electrifying volts pulsated around her body. "What's happening?" Lestrade asked.

"I imagine that would be the Doctor." Rose grinned, remembering his 'weapon'.

Sherlock rolled his eyes and muttered, "It probably won't last long."

"The emergency protocols!" Harriet Jones cried, snatching them up quickly as they raced out of the room.

"Good thinking." Mycroft remarked.

"Should we head downstairs?" John asked in the corridor.

"Downstairs is out of bound for now." Sherlock said. "There are at least two of them down there. I don't think we can risk breaking out of here just yet."

"Well, what are we supposed to do? Run and hide?" Lestrade asked.

"I'm afraid so." Sherlock said, facing him and the others. "They are hunters, they like to chase down their prey. Split up and hide, make it harder for them to chase us down."

"What about the Doctor?" Rose asked.

"The Doctor said he would come upstairs. I'm holding him to that promise." Sherlock said.

Mycroft nodded and sent the others off in different directions. John might have protested at being separated from Sherlock, but with a stern gaze and a nod from his lover, John grumbled and went off the way Mycroft had indicated.

"Good luck." Mycroft muttered to his brother as he and Sherlock separated to hide.

"You too." Sherlock said. Sherlock waited for about a minute or two in his hiding spot, considering their options.

They were very few and the aliens would be coming soon to pick them off one by one, following their scents. Sherlock frowned at the grim picture, especially of John in danger. Instead of focusing on that, he put himself in the mindset of these great hunters, prone to playing practical jokes with menace and cunning. They probably loved a good challenge and playing games, hunting for sport as well as meat.

After a short period of time, he emerged and glanced about, listening. A tremor in the distance, not too heavy, but fairly light, alerted him to the presense of the alien Margaret where they had left her. He crept forward and hissed, alerting her to his presence, before darting off in another direction. A while later, he heard her following after him, just what he wanted.

He would give her and the others the sport they needed, making it as hard and challenging as possible. He dashed one way, changed course, then doubled back and went another way. He sped through, in and out of rooms, and made a circle and then a figure eight through corridors. He even went up and down several flights of stairs.

He managed to avoid and evade the alien Margaret and then the two other aliens who made their way upstairs. That was hard for him to do at times, as they were quite fast for creatures of their girth. But he was quick and athletic as well, occasionally twisting round corners like he might fly off the wall and jumping down steps when racing downstairs.

There were narrow misses when he was a hair's breadth away from them, dodging round claws and slipping past them like a streak. He might have even jumped over one of them and slid under another, but that could have been a gross exaggeration.

Occasionally, he found himself in the same room or corridor where one of the others hid. But he quickly averted course to avoid leading the aliens too close to their hiding spots or to alert the others as to his tactic of distracting the alien hunters. They would surely protest and try to stop him from making a sacrificial move, especially John, no matter how necessary it might be.

Meanwhile, John fidgeted in his hiding place, not liking taking such a cowardly position, especially as he worried about what might happen to Sherlock and the others while he stayed here. He figured Sherlock might do something stupidly brilliant and get himself killed.

In fact, Sherlock nearly had killed himself several times since John had first met him when the cab-driver confronted him, he knocked that anti-plastic into the Nestene Consciousness's vat, he held down that lever in the boiling space station and chased after that undertaker. If it wasn't for John and the Doctor helping him out, Sherlock would have been dead by now.

John realized it was ridiculous and pointless for him to hide for long, no matter what Sherlock had said about those aliens. Sherlock and the others probably needed him. He extracted himself from his hiding spot, intending to find Sherlock and stop him from killing himself before it was too late. However, he had not expected to come across a group of aliens so quickly.

Meanwhile, the Doctor had watched General Asquith unveil himself, curious as to what sort of alien the general might be so that he would know what they were dealing with here. But he didn't recognize Asquith's species. Before the Doctor could run off or act, Joseph Green had discharged his electrical weapon, stunning the Doctor with the special access badge.

But the Doctor, in great pain, managed to pry it off and stun General Asquith, which affected Joseph Green in turn and, the Doctor imagined, the rest of the aliens as well. Their compression collars probably shared the same network connection, spreading the electrical discharge. The Doctor figured that would be the case, although he had not been entirely certain.

He ran off to fetch some soldiers, knowing they had only a short time to catch the aliens off-guard before the discharge shorted out and the aliens were restored to normal strength. But by the time the Doctor and the soldiers returned, General Asquith had disguised himself again, discrediting the Doctor's accusation. Jospeh Green ordered the soldiers to arrest the Doctor, leading to another chase.

The Doctor rolled his eyes, feeling frustrated and exhausted with the whole fiasco, which had gotten out of hand. But he managed to crack a smile and get a laugh out of being cornered at the lift. He jammed the lift with his sonic screwdriver so that no one else besides him would be able to use it. The aliens could take the stairs for all he cared. A little exercise might do them some good.

The lift opened on the next floor in time for the Doctor to catch a glimpse of Sherlock running past, not even stopping or slowing down to look at the Doctor. A few seconds later, the alien Margaret Blaine appeared, lumbering after Sherlock, although she paused to turn and glare at the Doctor, blinking and growling.

"Hello." The Doctor smiled and waved, pressing the lift button for the next floor before Margaret could charge at him.

The Doctor sighed and frowned as the lift doors closed, shaking his head. Sherlock really was a trouble-maker and instigator, no matter how smart he might be. He would get himself and maybe others killed as well sooner rather than later. Almost reminded him of Adric...and himself. At the next floor, the Doctor got off and headed back down to help out Sherlock and the others.

At that point, transformed into their alien selves, General Asquith and Joseph Green met Margaret Blaine and joined in her hunt for Sherlock Holmes. The thrill of the chase coursed through them as they followed the scent of a young man, cool, crisp, and refined even as he sweated and exerted himself. He smelled much like his older brother, except without the ice and frost with more coarse heat, passion, and anger, rage even. They loved it.

However, as they pursued Sherlock, suddenly they caught whiff of another man, older, plumper, weaker from past injury, yet still angry and passionate. Actually, he smelled similar to the younger man, probably because of some close, intimate relationship between them. They twisted round, breaking off their pursuit to growl at the other man, John Watson.

"Oh, bollocks." John said, catching sight of their claws and teeth coming at him. He wished he had his gun with him, but he had left it behind at home earlier.

He was prepared to run, not certain if he would be able to outpace them, when suddenly he and the aliens heard Sherlock shouting, "Eat me! Come on over here, and eat me! I'm juicy and tender, fresh and moist." Sherlock pointed. "He's old and fat, with bones that will splinter in your gullet. Come on and eat me!"

John's eyes widened, both shocked and touched that Sherlock would do such a thing to save him, although part of him oddly felt a little bit insulted. However, just as one of the aliens said, "Why don't we eat them both?" The Doctor popped out of a room with a fire extinguisher.

"Hello." The Doctor said again, spraying the aliens, just the distraction that both Sherlock and John needed to start running again, this time hand in hand.

"Yeti in the loo!" The Doctor cried out, running after the two boys, and like magic, the others popped out of their hiding places and started running after them, heading to the cabinet room.

There, the Doctor grabbed a bottle of scotch and, pressing his sonic screwdriver against it, confronted the aliens outside as he threatened to blow them all up to get some more information. Meanwhile, Sherlock collapsed against the wall in another corner of the room, panting heavily and totally exhausted from running as John found a pitcher of water and got him a glass.

"Thanks, mate. Cheers." Sherlock muttered, putting on an accent as a half-joke. Yet he greedily gulped down that water like it was the best thing in the world and it almost was, until something better came along.

John cupped his face in his hands and kissed him soon after, tenderly and then fierce as if he couldn't get enough. Sherlock sagged, letting go of all his tension and fear from earlier. He nearly broke his glass as he set it down and embraced John in turn, sucking air out of him.

John gasped as he let go of Sherlock and hissed, "Don't ever do that to me again."

"What? Save your life? You're going to need it." Sherlock said.

"I don't want to lose you." John said, hugging him close. "Not ever."

"I promise not to let that happen. Satisfied?" Sherlock asked.

"Not even close." John remarked, causing Sherlock to laugh.

Rose and Harriet watched the scene out of the corner of their eyes with some interest, although they were equally engrossed with the Doctor confronting the Slitheen, which turned out to be their family name, not species.

Sherlock laughed. "Of course you don't say I'm human, or whatever you are. You say your family or personal name. Who would go around calling themselves by their species name?"

"You would be surprised." The Doctor muttered. He soon had them locked up inside the cabinet room, sealed off from the Slitheen and almost the rest of the world.

"But at least we're dealing with a family unit, I think." The Doctor said. "Not a full alien species invasion. This is a family business, a few individuals at most. Brothers and sisters most likely, maybe a few of their spouses as well. Yes, we can deal with that, but what exactly are they doing?"

Harriet Jones had a few suggestions, but Sherlock said, "From what little I have seen of other worlds, and that is very little, they most likely have as much if not more of such things as the Earth does."

The Doctor shrugged. "That's true, Earth and its resources are not as uncommon as you might think. And they were dismissive of the Earth entirely, calling it a rock." He scoffed and frowned, still concerned.

Meanwhile Greg Lestrade found himself clutching Mycroft Holmes's hand, although he let go of it after a few moments. He wasn't certain if now was the right time to get into all of that when they should be concentrating on other things.

However, Mycroft grabbed his hand and lightly squeezed it when no one was looking, or when he thought no one was looking. Greg thinly smiled and returned the squeeze before letting go again. At least his doubt was gone for now.

They stored away the dead bodies of Indra Ganesh and the prime minister as the Doctor kept wondering where he had heard Harriet Jones's name before.

"What in hell is going on here?" Lestrade cried, coming after Sherlock. "First you told us all to run and hide, next thing I know, you're running all about the place, not even taking cover! What gives?"

"I was trying to distract them to give you all a better chance at remaining safely hidden." Sherlock sniffed.

"That was a very foolish thing to do, brother mine." Mycroft remarked. "Mum would have been terribly upset with me if you had died so soon after coming home."

"Ugh, domestics." The Doctor groaned.

"You're just glad I did it so that they wouldn't have eaten you so quickly." Sherlock remarked.

"I would have preferred it if it was not necessary at all for you to do such a thing, for mother's sake at least." Mycroft remarked.

"Why, brother, I'm touched. You really do care." Sherlock said, rolling his eyes as John stifled a laugh.

"Oh, hush." Mycroft said, walking away from the pair.

"Personally, I think it was a brave thing for him to do. Thank you, Sherlock." Harriet Jones said.

"Think nothing of it." Sherlock said, smiling.

"Please don't encourage him." John muttered.

"Like he needs any more, he's puffed up enough already." Rose laughed. "Happy as a clownfish, my mum would...mum!" Rose cried. "I better call her."

At that point, however, she received the text from Mickey with the Slitheen picture in her own flat, and soon they were all on speaker-phone, listening in to Mickey and Rose's mum Jackie explaining their situation.

"Sherlock, John, did you two bring your laptop with you?" The Doctor asked.

The two fellows hesitated and glanced at each other as Sherlock said, "We left it behind at our flat in the rush to catch my brother's helicopter."

"Why are you apes always so careless?" The Doctor asked, earning a frown from the two fellows, and sighed. "All right, Mickey, I need you to do me a big favor." He instructed Mickey how to get into UNIT's database and gain access to their audio files of a signal from the North Sea.

Rose's mum Jackie then asked if her daughter or anyone else traveling with the Doctor was safe. The Doctor hesitated and failed to answer as Rose tried to assure her mum. He couldn't promise them anything. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn't keep them safe. They would all die eventually and he worried it would be sooner rather than later, all because of him.

Sherlock and John glanced at each other, but didn't say anything to the Doctor. They had figured out, long before now, that no one was safe traveling with the Doctor, not even the Doctor himself, so long as he kept getting involved in troubling situations. But they would still try their best to protect each other, no matter what.

"Is this the Slitheen?" Lestrade asked as they heard the audio file play.

"I got a hold of the file that would be passed out to the alien experts at tonight's meeting, and this signal was mentioned under 'miscellanous' when it might be the point." The Doctor said. "They're broadcasting this signal, advertising."

"Advertising what?" Rose asked.

Around that point, Mickey and Jackie were attacked again, but the Doctor, with the others' assistance, Sherlock in particular as he yelled out that the Slitheen hunted for sport, figured out what species and planet the Slitheen came from. The Doctor told Mickey and Jackie that the Slitheen could be destroyed with vinegar.

Sherlock filed that away in his mind for future reference in case they ever encountered the Slitheen or their kind again as they all toasted Hannibal in the Alps, according to Harriet Jones. Even Mycroft found himself smiling at her story, though his eyes lingered on Lestrade.

Meanwhile, as one of the Slitheen was destroyed, the three other Slitheen that remained outside Downing Street were called back to their headquarters. The police officers that had been approaching Sergeant Donovan, Mycroft's house with Anthea inside, and Sherlock's flat with Ms. Hudson inside diverted, changing into their other human suits. They arrived at Downing Street soon after, with the Doctor and others watching the news coverage on John's phone.

"Not counting that police officer one that was destroyed, we have six Slitheen here now. That's probably all of them." The Doctor said.

"I sincerely hope you're right." Sherlock muttered.

Soon, Joseph Green came out and announced the presence of an alien mothership, asking the UN to pass a resolution to release the nuclear codes. At that point, the Doctor realized what was happening and confronted the Slitheen about their plans to destroy the Earth and sell off the scrap.

"Where the hell did you get such an idea?" John cried out, shocked at such a horrible plan.

"Don't blame us." Margaret Blaine grinned. "If you really want someone to blame, blame Moriarty. He's the one who came up with the plan."

"Moriarty?" Sherlock asked, stunned after the Doctor had sealed them back up again.

"What's wrong? Do you know him?" John asked as the Doctor and the others listened intently.

"I don't know him, I know of him." Sherlock said. "That murderous cab-driver said Moriarty gave him the plan, the means, and the motive to do away with all those people. Moriarty would pay for each murder so that the cab driver would be able to support his children after he died."

"Why would he do such a thing, Moriarty or the cab-driver?" Rose asked.

"The cab-driver was dying, he wanted to take care of his children, and as for Moriarty, apparently he's a 'fan' of mine." Sherlock said. "He wanted to know if I would solve the case. I never learned anything else about the man, the person, but that name. Yet now I see his pattern, his technique of working behind the scenes, orchestrating other people's crimes, possibly just for his own amusement. I don't see what other sort of benefit he would gain here aside from that, especially if he is going to be destroyed along with the rest of the planet."

"But how can he be involved with aliens?" John asked.

Sherlock helplessly shrugged. "Possibly he's an alien himself? I don't know if that would make any sense or be possible, but it might be an explanation for how he can gain something here and avoid Earth's destruction."

The Doctor frowned to himself and shook his head, not mentioning anything about his former enemy, the Master. That was such a long time ago and the Master was dead anyway, yet this reminded him of one of the Master's schemes. The Master would have done something like this, helped the Slitheen out, if it meant the Doctor's 'precious' Earth would be destroyed and he might gain some benefit from it.

"Give me that phone!" Mycroft and Lestrade both cried out, snatching Sherlock's and John's phones to contact Anthea and Donovan in turn to see if they had made any progress in their missions to discredit the reputation of Downing Street. However, despite their best efforts, the alien menace now seemed too prominent in everyone's minds and not even Mycroft's reputation was enough to stop that UN resolution from passing.

Mycroft swore softly to himself and so they waited to hear the awful news, everyone trying to come up with some idea of stopping the aliens until finally the Doctor sighed. "I have a plan, but you're not going to like it." He muttered, calling Jackie and telling her and everyone else of the danger the plan posed to Rose and the rest of the people in this room, that they might not survive.

The others glanced at each other, considering the problem, until finally Rose told the Doctor to do it, and the others slowly nodded. Both Mycroft and Harriet Jones, as government officals, gave their permission and ordered the Doctor to act. So the Doctor told Mickey to launch a missile right at Downing Street, and countermand any defensive measures, to destroy the Slitheen before they could launch a nuclear attack.

"Is this it?" John asked, glancing around at the others. "Is this how we're going to die?"

"We could always try hiding in the broom cupboard." Sherlock shrugged, "Ride out the blast."

The Doctor grinned. "Good idea."

So they all managed to stuff themselves inside the cupboard, pushing out the dead bodies. They clutched tightly at each other for comfort, Harriet Jones shouting out "Hannibal!" just before the missile hit them. They were rocked about, jumbled together, and tumbled down, but they managed to survive and emerge, whole and secure, from the broom cupboard.

"We made it! We survived!" Lestrade cheered, whooping for joy as he hugged and even kissed Mycroft.

"You owe me 20 pounds." Sherlock told John.

"I'll pay you later." John said. Rose called her mum to tell her everything was okay and Mycroft called Anthea to send a car down to fetch them.

"Thank you, Doctor, Sherlock, for saving me, the country, and the world." Mycroft said, approaching them. "We owe you all a debt of gratitude that can never be repaid, literally, I'm afraid. Your secrets are too important to be released to the public."

"I don't expect any sort of payment." The Doctor remarked.

"Perhaps a small payment wouldn't be too remiss, to help cover the rent while Sherlock and I are gone?" John asked as Sherlock rolled his eyes.

"And maybe my mother and Mickey should get something to pay for the damage to their flats?" Rose asked.

"And maybe you should try finding out who Moriarty is while I'm gone?" Sherlock asked. Mycroft sighed and agreed to their small exorbition fees. He was also concerned about another alien menace in the form of this Moriarty.

Meanwhile, Harriet Jones ran off to meet the reporters and tell them everything was all right. The Doctor suddenly remembered who she was, the future prime minister of Britain. Mycroft smirked to himself, evaluating her from a different angle politcally speaking and nodded to himself.

"Yes, she'll do just fine. I'll make sure she's ready for it." Mycroft said. The car soon arrived and Mycroft said, "The four of you can use it, if you wish. Lestrade and I are probably going to be busy here with Ms. Harriet Jones."

"Please don't groom her too much in a reflection of yourself." Sherlock said.

"I'll try my best to avoid that. Good luck and good-bye, brother?" Mycroft asked.

"Yes, as soon as possible." Sherlock said. "Tell Mum and Dad I'm sorry I can't stay, but I'll see them next time I come back, whenever that may be." He walked off with John, the Doctor and Rose and got into the car.

"I hope you will." Mycroft said.

"You really should go see your parents one of these days, Sherlock." John remarked inside the car. "Perhaps I might be able to meet them, too?"

"If you wish, perhaps." Sherlock said, "But they are rather mundane."

Rose laughed. "I'm sorry, but I'm finding it hard to imagine that yours and Mycroft's parents are rather mundane. What is the rest of your family like?"

"You don't want to know." Sherlock omniously said.

"Maybe I do." Rose said, glancing at the Doctor. "What do you think? Want to meet their parents?"

"Oh no, I don't want to get involved there. Your mum and Mickey are bad enough." The Doctor said as the others laughed.

Meanwhile, Lestrade sighed and told Mycroft, "I better get going, check on Donovan, and make sure the situation's here okay. Do you think you and Ms. Harriet Jones can handle things here?"

"I think we'll do just fine. See you later?" Mycroft said and Lestrade nodded, causing him to smile. For the first time in a while, Mycroft thought he had something to look forward to.

A little while afterward, Mycroft received a tap on his shoulder and turned around to face a smiling blond man, dressed in a tuxedo, standing next to his fashionably adorned blonde wife. "Hello, Mr. Holmes? My name is Harold Saxon, and this is my wife Lucy..."

Meanwhile, the foursome stopped by the hospital to pick up the fake alien so that they could find a new home for it, bidding farewell to Molly and Tosh. Molly was worried about what might happen to Sherlock and John, traveling with the alien Doctor, but she hid it well as she hugged them, hopefully not for the last time. Sherlock reluctantly accepted her hug.

Tosh left St. Barts then and contacted Owen and her boss Captain Jack Harkness, apprising them of the situation she had been through. Captain Jack slowly nodded, but said nothing to Owen or Tosh about his own past experiences with the Doctor, Sherlock, John and Rose. That was so long ago, and yet it seemed it hadn't happened to them yet. He silently wished them good luck with everything they were about to go through.

After that, the foursome went by 221B Baker Street to pick up the last of Sherlock's and John's things for traveling with the Doctor and Rose meeting Ms. Hudson and sampling her tea and biscuits. Both the Doctor and Rose promised to come back along with the boys, and they also got a good hug from the landlady. Finally, they returned to Rose's flat and soon they were gone again in the TARDIS.


	14. I Won't Let You

**Hello, again. I'm out of town once more. I have not seen Listen, but I have read reviews about it, because I felt like spoiling myself. Looking forward to seeing it after I get back. So far, I do like 12, especially with Robot of Sherwood. Hopefully he might eventually, maybe a couple of years from now, show up in this fic. Now this week, I'm doing an interval chapter-I'll start Dalek next time. I just feel like focusing on some other characters...  
**

"Morning, Lucy, Harold." Moriarty smiled as the couple walked into their London townhouse.

"Morning, James." Lucy smiled at her husband's friend, though a bit coolly, before she moved on to the private quarters. She wanted to freshen up and change her clothes after trudging through the wreckage of 10 Downing Street, an absolute mess.

She didn't quite trust James, who looked too snakelike to her. But the Master trusted him, and she supposed that was reason enough to stand him for a little while longer. The Master had promised her that, someday, they would be rid of Moriarty, once they were free of the TARDIS restraint that kept them either stuck on Earth or Utopia.

She shivered a moment as she recalled that horrendous, hellish vision of a place. But she blocked it from her mind with the hope the Master offered her of traveling beyond the stars, to see and conquer the entire universe. They would know, fear, and love the name Lucy Saxon.

"Bitch." Moriarty muttered, shaking his head as she vanished. "Head stuck up her ass."

"You're just jealous." The Master said. "She has her resources and her uses and she knows how to play the game well."

"So what if I am? And I can play the game way better than she can." Moriarty remarked.

"No one doubts how well you can play, but not the type of game we're playing." The Master said.

"Fine, I'll be good. So how did it go over there, Master?" Moriarty asked. "Did you get a hold of Mycroft? What did he have to say about what happened?"

"Yes, I did." The Master said, frowning as he explained some of what he had gleaned out of the Iceman. "He knows about you. The Slitheen mentioned your name when they were confronting the Doctor and his friends."

"Oh, bollocks. I was hoping to stay off of Mycroft's radar for a little while longer." Moriarty sighed. "Well, never mind, I suppose it would have to come out sooner or later. We'll deal with him eventually. Is that all you got out of him?"

"He saw and knew everything about the Slitheen plan, thanks to the Doctor and his brother Sherlock's investigations." The Master said. "He received some future knowledge from the Doctor about Ms. Harriet Jones, one of the back-bench MPs, becoming prime minister."

"Ms. Harriet Jones? She sounds revolting. I'm certainly not going to vote for her." Moriarty said.

"I don't know. She might be relatively inexperienced in terms of politics, perhaps easy enough to influence." The Master frowned. "We shall have to see. Hopefully Mycroft won't get his claws dug too deeply into her."

"I think you might be going into a losing battle there." Moriarty said. "Mycroft was with her during one of the most trying hours of her life, I should imagine, with ravenous aliens taking over Parliament, threatening to destroy the Earth, and then a missile crashes into Downing Street. He's probably a big influence on her already. But who would have guessed a missile would take out Downing Street and the Slitheen?"

"The Doctor contacted one of his companions to get access to the missile that destroyed Downing Street through UNIT." The Master added. "That was all I got out of Mycroft and it was more than enough."

"I'm surprised that they did use a missile." Moriarty said. "You said he doesn't like to use weapons, especially guns, even to destroy his enemies."

"Well, the Time War changed him, probably more than he evens knows." The Master said. "Nowadays he's more likely to resort to measures he once considered as anathema to further his own goals. If he knew that his precious earth was threatened, there wouldn't be anything he wouldn't do to save it."

"And Gallifrey? His home planet, your home planet?" Moriarty asked.

I can't say the same for him there." The Master growled.

"He's my kind of man there." Moriarty grinned. "It's surprising as well that no one questioned what happened with the destruction of Downing Street."

"Mycroft, Ms. Harriet Jones, UNIT and those alien experts who escaped are handling that situation as best they can." The Master commented. "They'll try to keep panic and questioning down to a minimum."

"Should we encourage that panic?" Moriarty asked.

"It's debatable how much of an impact it might have, and it might negatively affect us as well, drawing attention." The Master said.

"Well, let's avoid any more of that. There weren't any problems getting into Mycrroft's mind, was there?" Moriarty asked, turning to the Master.

"What do you mean by that?" The Master asked. "You don't think I can do it, do you?"

"No, not that, I'm just curious. Archangel is strong enough to do that?" Moriarty asked.

"Archangel is still weak." The Master said. "It needs to be further refined before it can be effectively used on a wide population. But yes, it's good enough to handle one man."

"Did he resist you? Will he remember what you did to him? Will there be any changes to him? Can you influence him?" Moriarty wickedly grinned at that last thought, having the Iceman as a puppet to command was so much fun to think about.

"Subtly I can influence him. Not enough to take control of him, but enough to leave some suggestions." The Master said.

"Oh, poo. I would have loved to make him dance." Moriarty said.

"You can make some people dance, but not all of them." The Master remarked. "He has a pretty strong mind that does resist my control. However, it is not strong enough to completely block me out. Only Time Lords and certain other individuals are completely immune." The Master frowned.

"I'm one of them, aren't I?" Moriarty asked.

"Never mind that." The Master wished at times that he could have controlled Moriarty right from the beginning of their 'partnership'. It would have made things so much easier between them if he had such a powerful, intelligent person completely under his control to act as his intermediary with the outside world.

But oddly enough, the criminal mastermind did show a remarkable, uncanny, almost superhuman capability of being able to resist and block the Master's control of him. Moriarty had simply laughed whenever the Master did try, and so the Master had given up on that.

Sometimes he half wondered if Moriarty was completely human, if there was some alien DNA in his genes. There might even be some fob watch somewhere, or an equivalent thereof, that had Moriarty's Time Lord essence trapped inside. It was folly to think on that too much, although the Master did keep his eyes open, just in case.

"I certainly did make him forget about what I did to him, or else he would have had some upsetting concerns." The Master said.

"I bet." Moriarty smiled, remembering the trance-like state he had observed on other people's faces as the Master had delved deeply into their minds.

He had never been in that predicament, no matter how hard the Master had tried that trick on him. But he could imagine the shock and trauma those people might have suffered if they had been aware of the Master's probing. Quite funny, once you thought about it.

"I can't change him, however." The Master said. "I can't make him do anything totally anathema to his nature or make him forget everything. And besides, if I changed him too much, people who do know him well, like Sherlock, are bound to notice and question what happened."

"Ah, I see. Don't want to alert them too early about your presence, but as for me, I'm fair game." Moriarty sighed.

"The others heard your name as well, not just Mycroft." The Master said. "It's out in the open. It's too late for me to take it back now and make them forget. They're already gone."

"I see your point." Moriarty remarked. "I still hate it. But maybe it might make things more interesting. My name will strike fear in their hearts without ever knowing whose face I possess." Moriarty grinned.

"It's your own fault as well for getting involved with the Slitheen." The Master said. "They babble as well as fart too much. I would have suggested a different family, or another alien group to align ourselves with"

"I liked their farting. Too bad they're all gone." Moriarty sighed. "Besides, the Slitheen would have succeeded if it wasn't for the Doctor and his friends destroying them. I can't say the same for your Auton friends. I don't know much about other aliens, but from what I gather, whatever sort of aliens we could have aligned ourselves with, the Doctor probably would have disrupted their schemes and our schemes as well."

Before the Master could protest, the phone rang. He answered as Harold Saxon, and then frowned. "James, it's for you." He said, handing the phone over. "It's Margaret Blaine. She's alive, alone, hurt and stranded. She wants you to come pick her up."

"What?" Moriarty frowned, taking the phone. "Where are you and why should I care? You failed me." He listened and nodded. "I see. All right, I will consider trying to help you one last time. Fail me again, and you will wish you died with your brothers and sister." He hung up the phone.

"You really are going to try helping her one last time?" The Master asked. "Feeling sentimental?"

Moriarty shrugged. "Call it a moment of weakness. I still expect to see some results out of her, though."

Several weeks ago, Rose had been living a rather mundane sort of life, working a steady job, living with her mum, and seeing her boyfriend and friends. She had made mistakes in the past, but she was making up for them. She was trying to earn a living for herself and her mum so that they could be more independent, not so reliant on their boyfriends. She was looking forward at times to changing her life, advancing or going somewhere, but even then something was missing from her life that she couldn't quite name.

Then the Doctor came into her life and changed everything. Rose hadn't expected her life to get so out of control at that point. And even then, if it wasn't for Sherlock Holmes and John Watson showing up on her doorstep, nothing might have come out of it.

Aside from that experience at the department store, and the Auton hand, Rose and the Doctor might have parted ways and never met again if it wasn't for the fact that John helped her find Clive and more information about the Doctor, while Sherlock stuck around with the Doctor, leading to them all meeting again. Maybe, just maybe, Rose could have found Clive on her own and gotten back with the Doctor without John or Sherlock around to help, but she wasn't willing to bet on it.

She kind of enjoyed having the boys around, as she and probably the Doctor thought of them. They were extra company, quite funny, and could be helpful at times. Sherlock was admittedly brilliant and could point things out rather quickly, while John was a medical doctor and quite brave on his own. And they were together, which was sort of sweet in a way that surprised Rose and made her think...nah. It probably would never happen.

But then again, neither Sherlock nor John had really been together until they started traveling together with the Doctor and Rose, experiencing such exciting, dangerous activity that might have trumped even Sherlock's cases and thrust them even closer together. They were so incompatible, or so it seemed at times, that they might never have imagined being together until it finally happened. Who knows if they would have ever gotten together if they weren't shaken out of their routines and encountered the alien side of the universe? It made Rose think that maybe someday...no, it probably would never happen.

But the way he had looked at her in that meeting room in Downing Street with her mum on the phone asking if he could keep her safe, and then later he said he couldn't protect Rose, that he might lose her...Rose wondered how he really felt about her. And how she really felt about him. Her heart swelled up whenever the Doctor looked that way at her, almost as if it might break.

But she tried to deny and dismiss those feelings as well. She was just really good friends with him, that's all. She cared enough about him to worry, and he cared enough about her to do the same. There wasn't anything more there than that. Still, it was a really good feeling she got inside, even though it might hurt, whenever the Doctor looked at her that way. Even better when he smiled and laughed as well.

However, she still had to remember the reason why she finally chose to travel with the Doctor, the hope that maybe she might convince him to let her see her father, to be by his side when he died, and maybe even save him if she could. Sherlock had tried to dissuade her from those thoughts, that the Doctor wouldn't allow her to change the past when it went against the laws of time travel. But he promised to keep her secret until she was ready to ask. That was pretty decent of the detective.

She still had not gotten the nerve to ask the Doctor, though, to help her, even though weeks had gone by since Downing Street blew up. Time passed strangely at times; she, the Doctor, Sherlock and John would spend hours, maybe even days, cooped up inside the TARDIS, floating through space. They would relax in their rooms, read books from the TARDIS's massive library, and watch TV and movies from all across the universe and other times. (Some of those movies and shows were strange and outlandish, with plots that only the Doctor could explain.)

They played games of all sorts, video games and sports, with Sherlock and John in particular exercising now and again, though she and the Doctor usually avoided the gym, aside from a bit of football and swimming. The TARDIS pool was massive and lovely, sometimes with a fake beach as well. But of course, they couldn't spend all of their time cooped up inside the TARDIS, not when there was a whole universe to explore out there as well. And so they would go traveling, jumping through time and space.

Usually it would be Earth or an off-shoot of that, as the Doctor figured they might prefer some 'familiar' terrain, even though it was far from what they had ever experienced. At other times, though, he introduced them to strange worlds and different aliens that they never would have thought possible, but they loved every minute of it. Except, of course, for those bad times whenever they came across any danger or any foe that would cause trouble for them or people around them. Then they would have to step in and help out, no matter what.

Except for those one or two times when they couldn't help out, when they were too helpless to do anything to stop what was happening. One of those times, they landed in the middle of a war. The Doctor hated that, she knew, and she could see the darkness in his eyes that must have come from the war his people fought, which had destroyed his whole planet. She was afraid in those moments that he might be completely subsumed by that sense of helplessness, destruction, despair and darkness that surrounded them.

But for the moment, he seemed to be keeping his head above water, just barely. As soon as they had landed and found out where they were, what was going on, he had wanted out of there, and she had agreed with him. What was going on here was terrible and she wished there was some way that they could fix this, make things better. But she was afraid of what might happen to the Doctor if they stayed there longer than necessary. However, they hadn't been able to return to the TARDIS as it had been lost in the middle of the battlefield. There was little chance of them getting back to the TARDIS without crossing the battlefield, which they eventually had to do. What a nightmare.

She wondered if Watson would react the same way as well, when he had been injured in Afghanistan in what must have been at times a brutal conflict. But he actually seemed quite comfortable with what was going on around them, apart from some grim stoicism on his part. He had an attitude of dealing with what must be dealt with. She felt like he might be ready to pick up a gun and protect them if necessary, fighting against the unknown foe, if the Doctor wasn't so opposed to fighting, or Watson in particular fighting. The Doctor seemed to be aware and mindful of Watson's attitude, treading gingerly around him and trying to keep the man away from fighting, just like she worried about the Doctor himself. She wondered if the Doctor saw himself in Watson.

And as for Sherlock Holmes...well, he seemed to be absorbed and intrigued in everything happening around him, as usual. He observed and noted what was going on, deducing some information about the nature of the conflict. He got some impressions of the people involved in the fighting and their reactions to the fighting. He watched his friends and lover as well, figuring out how they felt about the conflict, and eventually agreed that they should get out of here as soon as possible. He was most worried about what was happening here when Watson risked his life.

It happened when Sherlock, the Doctor, John and Rose were under cover from a barrage passing overhead, hunkered down and afraid that they might be targeted, when a soldier in the distance, running across the battlefield, was hit. While the others stared at the sight in horror, John Watson stiffened and watched with intensity until he saw the wounded soldier moving, and heard him crying out for help. John launched himself out of cover before Sherlock could stop him and raced across the battlefield to the wounded man's side.

"I'll get him. Just stay here!" The Doctor shouted at Sherlock and Rose, racing after him to help.

Sherlock was panicking, the most frightened she had ever seen him. Rose had to restrain him as well from bolting after the others, though she was more afraid of being left alone in this foxhole than that he would be hurt in that moment. They watched, gripping each other tightly, in horror as the Doctor and John managed to lift up the wounded man between them and half drag, half carry him back.

A dust cloud stirred up by the barrage obscured their vision, and the Doctor had taken off his jacket to shield himself, the wounded man, and John from the dirt. Several times, the Doctor, John, and the wounded man seemed to vanish in the dust and the sound of the barrage would continue around them, frightening Rose and Sherlock even more as they worried about their friends and (maybe, in Rose's case) lovers being killed.

However, the dust cloud would fade away, and the Doctor and John would still be there. Finally, the Doctor and John returned, now dragging the wounded man under their cover, making it even more crowded and uncomfortable under there with the wounded man sweating and bleeding, still crying for help and water. John bent over, tending to the wounded man once more as the Doctor sagged, exhausted next to them. Rose wrapped an arm around the Doctor for both of their comforts.

"Don't ever do that to me again." Sherlock hissed at John.

"And what would you have me do, leave him to die out there?" John asked.

"Yes," Sherlock said, though even he was a bit hesitant to say that, knowing John's feelings on the matter. Both Rose and the Doctor arched their eyebrows at that.

"You're heartless." John muttered, turning back to the wounded man.

"He does have a point, though." The Doctor remarked. "You could have gotten us both killed, John, running out there. And then where would we have been?"

"Squashed flatter than a pancake or blown to pieces." Rose shivered.

"Exactly. You all right, Rose?" He asked.

"Yeah, I'm fine enough. Thanks for asking." She sighed. "I just wish we weren't here."

"I know exactly how you feel." The Doctor muttered.

"You could have just regenerated." John muttered. "And you didn't have to run out there after me."

"Of course I did have to run out there after you. Sherlock would have blamed me for it if I didn't. I would have never heard the end of it." The Doctor said.

"You're damn right I wouldn't have let that go." Sherlock said. "And I would have run out there-"

"Exactly. Sherlock, a civilian, would have run out there on his own to save you. I never would have heard the end of it from you, John, if Sherlock had died." The Doctor said.

"A civilian? You think of me as a civilian?" Sherlock asked, shocked. "I'm a bloody good detective. That's way more than any ordinary civilian."

"Hmm, more or less." The Doctor said, causing Sherlock to frown.

"And what does that make you, Doctor? A soldier?" Rose asked.

"I'm not a soldier, not anymore." The Doctor barked out, then sighed. "But I know what it's like to be one."

John grimaced, glancing around at his friends and lover. "All right, I might have made a lousy mistake running out there like that without even thinking or taking stock of my surroundings. But I still did it for the right reasons, and this man will live, thanks to you and me, Doctor."

"Don't thank me." The Doctor said. "Just save him." John slowly nodded, and went back to his duties.

"Besides, it's not always a given that I'll regenerate." The Doctor said, continuing an earlier strand of their conversation. "A really good hit could have blown me to pieces, and who can regenerate out of that? And someday, maybe soon, I'm going to run out of regenerations."

"What's this regeneration and regenerated business?" Rose asked.

"We'll talk about that later." The Doctor said.

"Hopefully before it ever happens." Sherlock remarked with a grin. "Otherwise she's in for a big surprise."

"Oh, hush." The Doctor said.

"How many regenerations do you have left?" John asked, looking up at the Doctor.

"A couple, more than enough for me, thanks." The Doctor sighed.

"And then what happens next?" Sherlock asked, looking up at him.

The Doctor shrugged. "Nothing happens for me next. No more regenerations, no more options left. I would die for good and all after that."

Rose paused and stared at him, just like Sherlock and John. "You can't die yet." Rose said, tearing up. "We need you."

The Doctor sighed and softened. "You don't have to worry about that, Rose, John, and Sherlock." He added. "That's not going to happen to me for awhile yet, years and years down the line. I'm still going to continue for a long time." And he was afraid, though he didn't want to admit it or tell them, that he might outlive them or never see them someday.

"Good." Rose said, nodding. "Because I won't let you die."

She realized then that she meant it, because she loved him, yet she was afraid of her love for him. He was a hard, cold, broken man and it would be difficult to love him, maybe even more difficult than it was for John to love Sherlock. And it might be harder for the Doctor to love her in turn, just like Sherlock loved John. She didn't know much about the Doctor, she had to admit to herself; he was an alien, not entirely human. They might not even be compatible for all she knew.

He was far older, grander, and stranger than she would ever be, yet that didn't mean she didn't matter. She did matter, and she would have to take care of herself as well, just like she always knew she would. She couldn't always depend on him to be around, she realized, just like her father. She would have to face things on her own someday. And maybe find someone else to love as well. For now, she chose to ignore her feelings for the Doctor. There were others out there, she knew, not just him. She would ask him, though, if she could still see her father, Sherlock be damned.

Eventually, they got the wounded man to a field hospital and got back to the TARDIS. Rose thought about asking the Doctor for help a couple of times, but didn't try. Then they landed in Utah.


	15. The Museum of Legendary Monsters

**The Museum of Legendary Monsters**

**Author note: so I caught up with 'Listen' and 'Time Heist', the episodes I had missed, and then saw The Caretaker last week, yay. Looking forward to 'Kill the Moon' tonight and in that spirit, here's the start of Dalek!**

"John, is something troubling you?" Sherlock asked one 'night' inside the TARDIS, or at least what they determined was nighttime for them in a vehicle traveling through time and space, lying next to each other.

"Isn't it odd to think that you might find out about your future in the past?" John murmured.

"What are you talking about?" Sherlock lifted his head. "Are you still fixated on what that girl Gwyneth had to say back in 1860s Cardiff?"

"Aren't you at least concerned?" John turned to him. "The whole thing with the Slitheen and their smiling faces, like those 'men with hyena grins' she mentioned, had me concerned. Not to mention how we nearly avoided getting into World War Three there and she was talking about wars and battlefields. It sounds like more than coincidence to me."

"Battlefields…" Sherlock murmured, reminded of John and the Doctor running out onto the battlefield to save a wounded soldier, before he shook his head. "John, you should not believe such superstitious nonsense. She couldn't see the future. It was just the Gelth messing with her mind."

"The Doctor said it was possible, because of the rift." John shivered slightly.

"Possible, yes, but not the only explanation." Sherlock said. "Gelth are another and I'm more willing to believe that right now."

"A superstitious belief." John added.

"Point taken." Sherlock sighed, staring up at the ceiling of John's bedroom in silence. They had settled into their rooms on the TARDIS pretty well, and had even started to decorate their rooms with souvenirs from their trips as well as their own belongings. But they still tended to drift from one room to the other on different nights, not comfortable sleeping on their own and not desiring to do so when they wanted to be together.

"Are you okay, Sherlock?" John asked.

"Aside from the fact that you ran out onto a battlefield…"

John groaned. "I'm sorry for that, but I had to-"

"I know, I know, I just feel like giving you a hard time for that." Sherlock grinned.

John rolled his eyes. "I'm never going to live that down. What about Moriarty? Should we not be worried about whoever this alien or person is?" He asked.

"Aliens are people too, John, we've seen that." Sherlock admonished.

"You know what I mean, human or alien." John added.

"Well, I'm not too worried so long as Mycroft should be able to handle him or her or it. Whoever it is seems to be restricted to one time period and place, London in our present. So it's unlikely that they or it are able to follow us. Relax, John." Sherlock rubbed John's shoulder. "Moriarty can't get to us. Nothing can get to us here, in the starry reaches of time and space, deep inside the TARDIS."

"I might get more comfortable." John snuggled up against his lover, listening to the soft, distant murmuring and rumbling of the space-time vehicle traveling through the vortex.

However, before too long, as they were drifting off to sleep, an alarm rang, startling the two fellows into alertness. They quickly got out of bed and dressed, wondering what was going on before they headed to the console room. The Doctor and Rose were already there and dressed, having been awake and watching a movie when the TARDIS received a distress signal of some kind.

"Is there any indication what it could be?" Sherlock asked. "Who sent it?"

The Doctor shrugged. "No talking, just screaming and other urgent, disturbed noises and vibrations on the frequency."

"Sounds horrible." Rose murmured.

The Doctor nodded. "The TARDIS brought it to my attention and steered us off course towards it at the same time. I don't have any choice in the matter."

"Would you not have gone towards it then?" John asked.

The Doctor hesitated. "I don't know what we're dealing with here. The time period and place is wrong for something with the strength and ability to broadcast such a signal through space and the time vortex to reach my TARDIS. Whatever it is seems to have been seriously displaced. I would have at least liked to find out something more."

"Then find out more." Sherlock urged. "Let's go out and see what it is."

The Doctor slowly nodded and they left the TARDIS to find themselves in a large space, designed like a museum, except that it was more cavernous, grungier, industrial, and stranger than any museum Sherlock, Rose, or John had seen. More like a warehouse with some items displayed in glass cases, and what specimens these things were.

"Are these real?" John asked, turning to the Doctor.

"They're real all right." The Doctor grimaced.

"Oh, my god." Rose murmured.

The trio of humans stared in horror at the monstrous and unusual alien heads and other body parts on display, and shivered as they avoided looking at the Doctor's aggrieved, disgusted face. They understood that he felt like he had just walked into a slaughterhouse with the prized trophies of slain beings he might know about stuffed and mounted for the world to look at, except no one was here but them to mourn the dead.

"Why would they create such a museum, full of such specimens, if no one comes to see it? What kind of collection is this?" Sherlock murmured.

Sherlock examined the specimens behind their glass cases as much as he was able to, only able to visually inspect the specimens from a remove to figure out how they had been killed. This was a crime scene as far as he was concerned. He cursed that he could not simply break the glass cases and physically handle or manipulate the remains for a better analysis.

Yet the museum nature of this setting prevented him from doing so when he might alert some guards and damage one of the specimens. He was aware of the Doctor's sensitivity to this particular crime in the nature of the victims. This was a delicate, difficult matter to handle or be part of, yet he could do it if he wanted to or was allowed to.

"A petty, vain collection." The Doctor said, sighing. "It's not so much for other people to look at and learn from as it is to say this is what we have found, destroyed, and taken for our own."

"What type of a museum is this?" Rose asked. "Who would do all of this?"

"Who do you think?" The Doctor asked, shaking his head. "Apes. Humans created this museum."

"Where are we, Doctor? And when?" John asked.

Then the Doctor revealed that they were below ground in Utah in 2012, further horrifying the humans. This was happening practically in their own present time on their planet, and no one knew anything about it, except for those who had gathered and stored these items and specimens, and they weren't doing much beyond keeping these remains and things for themselves.

"Did humans…kill…?" Rose started to ask, nervous about how the Doctor might react and ashamed about what people like her had done to these alien creatures.

"Not all of them." Sherlock muttered. "Most of these specimens and items show heavy trauma scars and markings with some post-mortem cutting. They probably crashed on this planet, and maybe expired before their remains were recovered from the wreckage. Some appear to have no visible wounds beyond post-mortem cutting, possibly expiring from natural causes. The rest, though, do show signs of scars and wounds that might have been inflicted by human weapons, leading to their deaths. I'm sorry, Doctor." Sherlock remembered to say.

"Don't even talk to me." The Doctor said, wandering off to stare at one item in particular.

John grimaced at Sherlock, knowing his lover was only trying to solve the crime of what had happened here and impart that information to them to dispel or inform whatever doubts or questions they might have. But he still wished that Sherlock could have done a better job of divulging such information to the Doctor, maybe even to the point of withholding some indelicate details until later.

Sherlock could be too bloody thoughtless and honest at times. Sometimes it paid to be more careful, discreet, and bloody considerate at times, even humane. Although now John started to wonder if such a term could apply to any of the humans that had created this museum; probably not. John turned around to apologize to the Doctor as well, when he saw what the Doctor was looking at and his eyes widened, recognizing the item from the UNIT files.

"Is that a Cyberman's head?" John asked.

Sherlock, who had been inordinately quiet since the Doctor had brushed him off, maybe to the point of being ashamed or exasperated with his common behavior in reporting his analysis of a crime scene, turned to stare at the item in question with his full-blown curiosity renewed. Sherlock smiled to himself for a moment as he stared at the Cyberman head, for after having extensively reviewed the UNIT files and even gone searching through the TARDIS library for more tomes related to extraterrestrial life, had gotten more than a passing understanding of such extraterrestrial beings.

And even though the Cybermen were, more often than not, referred to as villains, he found himself inordinately fond of them, or at least accounts of how the Doctor and his friends had vanquished such Cybermen and other foes in the past. It was another time, he knew, truly before the Time War and the destruction of Gallifrey and the Time Lords when the Doctor had been an adventurer, explorer, and fighter of evil.

That had changed, Sherlock knew the Doctor and the universe had changed, perhaps irrecoverable forever, and there might never be a way of recapturing that legendary past. He feared the Doctor would never be such a hero again and that he and John would never experience such amazing adventures as the Doctor's past companions had, for the monsters were gone forever. The Slitheen certainly weren't the Cybermen and nothing that Sherlock had experienced so far could compare with his perception of such legends. Even the Doctor admitted that he was old, having lived so long to see one of his old foes being preserved in a museum, a symbol of the past.

"What's a Cyberman?" Rose asked.

Sherlock and John both were about to explain, but the Doctor cut them both off, not really explaining what it was, though. Sherlock and John stewed, wondering why the Doctor would keep her in the dark, as Rose asked if the distress signal came from the Cyberman's head, which reminded the two fellows of why they were there in the first place.

"It's one of these aliens." Sherlock murmured, glancing around. "One of them must be here, maybe still alive. That's how that signal reached us from this time and place."

"Exactly." The Doctor said, nodding. "We're going to rescue it before it becomes the next specimen in this horrible museum."

"Or before you do." John murmured as guards flooded into the museum to surround them.

They all held their arms up as they were marched out of the museum, away from the TARDIS once more, which always unnerved John whenever they were separated from the vehicle that could get them safely out of here. Part of John sometimes wondered if the TARDIS could feel or sense that separation between itself and the Doctor, projecting an aura of nervousness or distress to the Doctor and others.

It probably was a ridiculous thought, although John could not entirely dismiss it for some reason. The vessel was sentient, as far as John was aware, so maybe it wasn't entirely nonsensical to project such feelings upon it. In a way, it made the TARDIS seem friendlier somehow, yet still completely alien, much like the Doctor. John hoped the Doctor wouldn't stay mad at them, or Sherlock in particular.

The guards propelled them down a corridor, probably to meet the mastermind behind this horrendous place, which had become a regular enough occurrence that Sherlock expected such a thing. The guards didn't really talk to them, although Sherlock and the others heard radio chatter about Bad Wolf One landing, which caused Sherlock to frown.

He had heard that phrase before, Bad Wolf, in different times and places, although he wasn't certain if it meant anything or if it was just a coincidence. Maybe it was just coincidence, although it seemed to fit the definition of whoever created this museum. Bad Wolf, the evil hunter who stalked and trapped his prey, dragging back the carcass to put on display for his personal admiration.

Yes, for some reason, Sherlock felt like he might find some answer to the meaning of the phrase 'Bad Wolf' here in this underground base, which he hoped would solve the dilemma of such a mystery plaguing him without an obvious answer. Yet when they met Henry Van Statten who owned this place and the collection inside of it, Sherlock despaired of finding an answer here when he wasn't certain if the man was a mastermind or even had a mind of his own.

He seemed crude, rude, and brazenly idiotic in his own way, not to mention lewd and vulgar toward Rose, a sleezeball in most ways. He might be rich enough to own the Internet, which caused even Sherlock to raise an eyebrow, and build this elaborate underground base and fill it full of alien junk, specimens, and items he had recovered and bought to fill his museum, but it was ultimately a monument to his own self-worth, power, vanity and stupidity.

For Van Statten didn't understand anything, it seemed, about the alien items he possessed, and instead relied upon the intelligence of experts like that Adam boy to determine and assess the value and worth of these alien objects as collector items. He couldn't appreciate them on their own merits. And then he and the Doctor practically got into a fight, with Rose quipping about the testosterone in the room.

"Doctor, you can do better than give in to this cheap posturing and one-upmanship." Sherlock remarked, rolling his eyes. "It's beneath you, don't stoop to his level."

"He started it." The Doctor muttered. "And it's the sort of language he understands. He doesn't appreciate the finer things in life, the beauty of the delicate instrument he tossed aside like cheap garbage. And he doesn't understand the horror of what he's done, displaying the remains of those beings like trophies when they should at least be given a decent burial. So yeah, I'm going to talk to him however I feel like and I want you to stay out of it. Got me?"

"Crystal clear." Sherlock murmured, realizing the Doctor had not recovered from his shock and anger at seeing this museum to deal sensibly with humans of any sort. He was openly hostile to those he saw as aggressors, including Henry Van Statten and Sherlock Holmes.

When Van Statten offered to show the Doctor the creature inside his cage, the Doctor slowly nodded, thinking this might be what had sent the distress signal. He asked Van Statten if he could take John, a medical doctor, with him to examine the creature, which John agreed to since he might be able to help out in saving the being.

When Sherlock offered his service to come along with them, the Doctor shook his head and said, "Stay here, watch out for Rose and Adam."

"What? But Doctor-" Sherlock protested.

"I don't need a babysitter." Rose muttered.

"Please." John said, turning to Sherlock. "Maybe it would be better for now to keep you two apart." The Doctor didn't say anything, irritably looking away as Rose and Adam exchanged a glance and Van Statten smugly smirked at the discordant scene.

"All right, fine. I understand." Sherlock stiffly said, not looking at John or the Doctor at the moment. "See you two later." He muttered. "Good luck, John."

"Good luck, Sherlock." John said, uncomfortable at leaving his lover like this as well.

But he felt like maybe Sherlock should take a step back, away from the Doctor until the Time Lord had recovered from his fury and dismay to deal equitably with his companions and humans in general. At least the Doctor didn't seem to have as much of a grievance with John as he currently had with Sherlock, although John could not really think why. Probably because Sherlock had talked too much in a manner that had provoked the Time Lord.

So the group parted with the Doctor and John following after Van Statten to the cage to see his creature and Rose and Sherlock staying behind with Adam, reluctantly in Sherlock's case, to look at the alien objects Adam had collected. Henry Van Statten told the Doctor and John about 'Metaltron' as he called the creature, which caused a couple of raised eyebrows from the Doctor and John, and not to touch it without wearing gloves.

John slipped on the gloves, though the Doctor didn't deign to do so, saying he probably wouldn't even touch it. John mentally berated Sherlock for getting in trouble with the Doctor by getting on his bad side, wishing that his lover was here with them when Sherlock would probably be better adept at handling the alien creature.

For some reason, John felt nervous, like they really were getting into the cage with a monster instead of a hurt, wounded being or creature. He didn't know what they were dealing with, after all. The air of mystery surrounding this being was starting to get to him, though Sherlock probably would be thrilled about this whole experience. Now he really wished Sherlock could be here, when Sherlock's thrill of the chase and solving a mystery was infectious enough to excite John as well. He was just plain terrified at the moment.

The Doctor and John entered the cage, the door closing behind them, a dark room with the lights currently turned off when it might take a while for them to power on. There was just a blue glow coming from the far end of the room, possibly powered or projected by the creature itself.

John nervously hung back, clutching at a bag of medical supplies one of Van Statten's hired scientists had handed over to him. He glanced down at the instruments currently set out on a medical tray close by and shivered to himself, feeling like this was a medieval torture chamber or haunted house room.

The Doctor stepped forward, talking to Metaltron and introducing himself, at which point the alien creature finally spoke out in low, clipped tones, robotic yet with a screech in them that seemed inhuman and monstrous, "DOC-TOR…THE DOC-TOR?" with two tubular lights flashing above the blue light as it spoke. John blinked, almost recognizing the thing that spoke, yet he could not quite process the image quite yet, still in the dark.

The Doctor gasped and retreated as lights flared on in an ugly, harsh glare that fully revealed the alien creature to both of them in all of its hideous pepperpot glory with a dome-shaped head topped by tubular light stalks, an eyestalk sticking out, an oval-shaped skirt protruding forth, covered in little balls, and a plunger and death-ray gun sticking out from its body. At the same time it shouted, "EX-TERMINATE!" repeatedly with all of the force and vitriol it could muster, leaving John gasping in terror like he was having a heart-attack.

"Oh my god, it's a Dalek!" John cried out in fear, raising his medical bag up like a shield, as if that could protect him from the Dalek's death ray or whatever it used. Yet he knew it couldn't save him, not now. "Sherlock." He whispered, wincing as he closed his eyes and braced himself for death.

"Let us out!" The Doctor cried, pounding on the door of the cage in terror, reliving all of his worst nightmares in that moment as he was about to die, certain the Dalek was coming to get him, and John was going to die in here with him. That was the worst part of it all, he realized, leading one of his friends to his death.


	16. The Cage

**Sorry about not updating in a couple of weeks and that this is another relatively short chapter, but I did struggle a bit with this chapter, even though I had one or two ideas. Eventually I was able to come up with a new twist to lead back to the old format, strange as that is. Series 8 finale coming up soon on TV, yay!**

"How can the Doctor be angry at me?" Sherlock muttered to himself, still nursing that sore as he, Rose, and Adam headed towards Adam's lab, straight out of Van Statten's office.

They were being relegated to playing with the objects that Van Statten had collected while the Doctor and John got to meet and possibly rescue a trapped alien. It didn't seem fair, now that Sherlock had gotten a moment to think about it. But then again, nothing was fair today.

"Sherlock, please let it go." Rose told him, glancing back. "I'm sure he'll be fine in a short while. Just give him a chance to think and relax a bit. Maybe things will be better once we leave here."

"I suppose so, but I am worried that he won't be fine with me." Sherlock said, looking up at her. "This could be a bad sign for things to come. I was only analyzing the situation as I saw it and he lashed out at me, just because I was indelicate on what might be a personal matter? I suppose I was blunt, but I cannot always soften the tone or language of my deductions, especially when dealing with brutal crimes. I would rather present the evidence as plainly as possible so that-anyone can understand it than have my deductions misconstrued or misunderstood." He was going to say 'morons', but at least he had managed to soften his language there.

"I know the feeling." Adam muttered to himself, nodding. "People can't understand you sometimes, so you have to find a way of talking to them in their own language."

"Exactly, and I really do wish we didn't have anything like that in common." Sherlock muttered, causing Adam to glare at him.

Rose sighed. "You really do need a refresher on manners, don't you?" She murmured, shaking her head.

"I am a detective, this is what I do." Sherlock said. "I consult with the police to help them solve crimes and when I do see evidence that a crime has taken place, no matter where or when, I am obliged to investigate and analyze the evidence at hand and solve the puzzle. I cannot ignore what I see and I will disclose everything as well, it is part of what I do. If the Doctor cannot accept that, then he does not accept me, and I am afraid that he will not want me around."

"That's cool." Adam said, nodding. "You know, I once thought about being a detective, but-"

"Why are you talking to me?" Sherlock asked, causing Adam to gape at him.

"You really can't shut it off?" Rose asked, turning around to glare at the detective.

"I cannot and the Doctor blames me, just because I remark upon and describe what one man and his cronies have done, destroying, decimating, and displaying dozens if not hundreds of alien parts and artifacts." Sherlock said. "Am I really to blame here, or are people like Van Statten and his assistant Adam to blame for their actions?"

"Hey, don't blame me." Adam said, turning around to face Sherlock. "I would rather not be responsible for mishandling these alien artifacts and specimens, if that is what the Doctor and you blame us for. But I don't do anything to harm any of these alien creatures and we don't know anything about these things that we find. So how can we find out more about any of these specimens and artifacts if we don't handle them somehow, even if that means displaying as well as caring for them?"

"Then don't handle them. Simple as that." Sherlock said. "Walk away."

"You know we can't do that when there is a mystery to be solved here, a puzzle." Adam said. "I know the feeling, detective."

Sherlock growled as they entered Adam's lab. With Adam and Rose busy discussing the possibilities of alien life and the objects Van Statten had collected, Sherlock stalked and browsed through Adam's lab. He was bored and annoyed with this creepy boy genius who was nothing more than a runt and a nut like Van Statten.

Adam even flirted with Rose, who kidded right back at him, though concealing the truth of her knowledge on alien life. She was right to be so cautious, Sherlock felt, as Adam was the sort of person who would take advantage of any sort of knowledge he could gain, just like Van Statten.

Adam was nothing like Sherlock. Or the Doctor for that matter, despite Rose's comparison, as Adam laughed about nearly starting World War Three, something the Doctor would never joke about. Sherlock mimicked Adam's laugh as Rose glanced between them, obviously picking up on the tension, but she tried not to comment on it. Instead, Rose asked about the alien creature down below and Adam admitted that he had the ability to hack into communication surveillance.

"Why didn't you do that in the first place?" Sherlock asked, turning around to face Adam. "Instead of bothering with all this mess, why didn't you show it to us in the first place?"

"It doesn't do anything, it's useless, just a giant pepper pot." Adam insisted.

"A pepper pot?" Sherlock snapped, annoyed and nervous as he recognized the reference and got the feeling this was important. "Show us." So Adam logged in, and revealed the scene.

"It's a Dalek? Whoo-hoo, I don't even know what that means, but it sounds great." Henry Van Statten smiled, practically clapping as he stared at the screen. "Why are they all cowering in fear like that?" He referred to John and the Doctor.

"Probably think it's dangerous." His assistant Diana Goddard muttered, watching the scene as well. "Maybe they know something we don't."

"Ah, they're just a bunch of sissies." Van Statten muttered, waving off her remarks. "We've got something important here, I can tell. Thanks to the Doctor for bringing it back to life."

After a minute, the Doctor lifted his head and John lowered his medical briefcase as nothing happened; the death-ray wavered about, but it wasn't firing at them. The Doctor cried out for joy and maliciously taunted the Dalek as John stood there, dumbfounded and shocked by what had just happened and the Doctor's behavior as well. This wasn't like him, the Doctor never taunted anybody like this. Maybe Sherlock, the alien museum, and the Dalek really had put him on edge.

"Maybe we should get out of here." John muttered, glancing back at the door.

"Don't be so afraid, it can't harm us now." The Doctor wickedly grinned at the Dalek. "It can't harm any one of us now, the last of the Daleks."

"A Dalek." Sherlock muttered as Adam and Rose watched the scene in horrified fascination, the Doctor's smirk and anger ugly and grotesque in its own way.

"What is that thing?" Rose asked.

"A killer. A monster. The Doctor's faced those Daleks dozens of times, according to the accounts." Sherlock said, Rose and Adam staring at him. "The ultimate war machine, and the Doctor and John are right in there. We've got to save them." He was prepared to rush off in that moment, certain of the danger they were in, but Adam's words brought him up short.

"It's like a comic-book supervillain showdown." Adam whispered in awe, never expecting anything like this to happen to him, although he could dream.

"Shut up, Anderson, it's nothing like that!" Sherlock cried, turning back to him. "This is real."

"Anderson?" Both Rose and Adam said, confused.

However, before Sherlock could set off, the Doctor spoke about wiping out all of the Daleks, startling everybody listening and watching the scene. "The Doctor did that?" Rose asked. "How could he-" and then the Dalek asked about the Time Lords, and the Doctor revealed the end of the Last Great Time War.

"The Daleks and the Time Lords…so that was what happened." Sherlock muttered, pausing in mid-stride as he mused over this news. "I always figured it would have to be a big, powerful enemy to face and almost destroy all of the Time Lords, but I never imagined it would be Daleks."

"But the Doctor did that." Rose muttered, gazing up at Sherlock. "He wiped them all out. The Dalek said 'you destroyed us'. Was it referring to the Time Lords, the Doctor's own people, as well?"

"I don't know." Sherlock said, staring back at Rose. "But I did wonder why he was the one who survived, how it happened."

At that point, the Dalek told the Doctor, 'we are the same', which caused John to shiver. He was appalled at everything he had learned about the Doctor as well, the hint of the larger role the Doctor might have played in ending the Time War. Yet seeing the Doctor face-to-face with one of his old enemies, the Daleks, and learning about their role in the Time War made John curl up his fists and grimace.

He had always wondered what he would do if he was ever confronted with a former enemy combatant, face to face, if they could even speak to each on friendly or neutral terms or if they would always fight. John did not know how he would react if such was the case, but here and now he could feel the anger, disgust, and sorrow boiling up inside the Doctor, threatening to spill out in a simmering rage.

John felt that way as well, sometimes, whenever he thought about his own wartime experiences; even though he was addicted to the thrill of fighting and danger, that didn't mean he didn't feel differently about it at times. He thought he could understand some of the Doctor's feelings on this matter, how troubled he was about what he had experienced and done. And he was worried about the Doctor, how overwhelming those conflicting feelings might be for him in this moment, face-to-face with his enemy and what he had done as well, and how or when or if he would explode.

And the Dalek…John was nervous and uncertain about the way the Dalek acted. This wasn't characteristic of the Daleks, as far as he was aware of. This was something different and bizarre, not like one of the old Daleks from the old UNIT reports. This was something else as well, different yet still the same, just like the Doctor. They really were tied together, John realized.

"A matchup of supervillains." Adam was saying in Adam's lab, causing Sherlock to groan.

"Will you please shut up, Anderson?" Sherlock said. "The Doctor is not a supervillain and this is not a comic book."

"Why do you keep calling me Anderson? Stop saying that!" Adam cried. "My name is-"

"Anderson." Sherlock snapped, turning to Adam. "That's who you remind me of, Anderson! The worst forensic scientist New Scotland Yard ever hired, my bane and nemesis! Next to Mycroft and maybe Moriarty, of course."

Adam gaped at him and Rose gasped, stifling a laugh, as she couldn't help finding the humor in Sherlock's frustration with Adam, despite the stressful situation they were all in. Meanwhile, the Doctor said, 'exterminate' and unleashed an electrical charge, shocking and torturing the Dalek as it cried out for pity.

John shook his head, startled out of his reverie and contemplation then by such an uncharacteristic move on the Doctor's part, as he cried, "Doctor, we have got to go!"

"But I was just getting started." The Doctor said when the guards, Van Statten, and Goddard rushed into the cage to escort the Doctor and John out of there.

The Doctor was shouting about all of them being in danger, but John couldn't help wondering if the Doctor really was going insane. Van Statten confronted the Dalek, trying to get it to talk again. When it didn't respond, he ordered Simmons to torture the alien, but John didn't see what happened next as he was taken to the lift and shoved inside next to the Doctor.

"Are you okay?" John asked the Doctor.

"Yeah, I'm fine. What about you?" The Doctor asked.

"Yeah, me too, but next time warn me before you go crazy." John told the Doctor, who harshly laughed as Van Statten got into the lift just behind them. The Doctor launched into a lecture about the Daleks to Van Statten, which interested John until he learned that Van Statten wanted the Doctor now.

"Hey, hey, leave him alone!" John shouted, kicking and struggling against the guards who were pulling and pushing the Doctor out of the lift towards the detention center. Then one of the guards electrocuted John with a stun gun to quiet him, causing him to curl up in pain.

"John, stand down!" The Doctor shouted at him before turning to Van Statten as he said, "I'll come quietly if you leave John alone."

Van Statten rolled his eyes and said, "All right, let the ponce go. Maybe give him and his friends their marching orders. Where did they go?"

Meanwhile, Rose grimaced as she watched the Doctor torturing the Dalek, disturbed by the Doctor's behavior, yet helpless to comfort and confront him somehow about what had occurred to him. And for some reason, she did feel pity for the monstrous Dalek, despite what its people had done to destroy the Time Lords.

She didn't feel like it was fair to lock up and torture such a being, no matter what it had done. There was a chance that the Dalek's own sorrow and plea for pity was genuine, after all. Perhaps it had changed and didn't deserve such suffering.

Sherlock watched the Dalek's torture without pity, thinking the monster deserved such punishment, although he was concerned about what was happening with his friend and lover. "Where are they taking John and the Doctor?" Sherlock asked, facing Adam.

Adam shrugged. "Probably to the detention center, although the Doctor…he really is an alien?" Adam asked.

"Yes, he—oh. Van Statten knows." Sherlock growled. "And Van Statten always likes to dissect his aliens."

"We've got to get them out of there." Rose murmured, standing up as well and following after Sherlock.

"Adam, you can come with us and bring your laptop." Sherlock remarked, turning to the young assistant and using his name properly. "You're so good at hacking into anything. Perhaps you might be able to find a way of freeing John and the Doctor?"

"Why should I help you?" Adam asked, frowning at Sherlock. "You were insulting-"

"Please, Adam, for me?" Rose asked, cozying up to him. "And maybe I can get you inside the TARDIS, the Doctor's spaceship, for a trip?"

Adam lit up. "Really? You would?"

"Oh, no." Sherlock groaned.

"I'll do it." Adam nodded. "Especially if it will shut him up." He eyed Sherlock.

"Come on, pretty boy Adam." Sherlock grumbled as they set off to save the Doctor and John. "Why did you invite him on board the TARDIS?" Sherlock hissed at Rose as they were walking along towards the lift.

"What choice did I have? We need him." Rose said.

"We don't need him that much." Sherlock said. "I could have probably broken John and the Doctor out of there without too much trouble, maybe by disabling the guards and the security system. I only invited Adam to make things a little easier."

"Admit it, you're just bragging and you don't know this place or its security system as well as Adam does." Rose said. "It probably would have taken you too long or you might have been overwhelmed. That's why you invited him, for his extra brainpower."

"All right, fine, I admit it." Sherlock grumbled as they rounded a corner to meet a guard standing by the lift.

"There you two are." The guard nodded, staring at Sherlock and Rose before turning to Adam. "I will escort these two the rest-"

Sherlock punched out the guard before pinching one of the nerves on his neck to thoroughly distract, disable, and knock out the guard. Adam and Rose gawked at the sight before Adam groaned. "No, no, this is all wrong, this wasn't supposed to happen. What are we going to do now?"

"Going directly to the detention center might be out of the question now unless we wind up like John and the Doctor." Sherlock murmured, glancing at Adam and Rose. "We have to come up with a new plan. Find a place to hide and regroup, figure out how to negotiate their release or break into the detention center without being caught."

"I've got an idea." Rose said, staring up at Adam and Sherlock. "Let's break into the cage and free the Dalek."

"What?" Both Adam and Sherlock said, staring at her in shock.

"It's a bargaining tool. We threaten to unleash the Dalek on all of them unless they allow us to go free in the TARDIS." Rose said.

"This is an insane plan, isn't it?" Adam asked.

"It might work." Sherlock said, staring at Rose appreciatively. "If handled the right way. We have to get into the cage first, maybe lock ourselves in so that no one can stop us, and then make our demands with the threat." He pressed the lift button.

"But we'll be trapped in there with the Dalek, who isn't armed, and if it was armed, it would probably kill us according to your story, right?" Adam asked Sherlock as they waited for the lift. "I don't know how we can threaten Van Statten that way into giving in to our demands. We may be locked in a stalemate here."

"Not necessarily." Sherlock murmured as the lift arrived. "We'll have to talk to the Dalek first."

"Are you insane or some kind of psychopath?" Adam asked as Sherlock and Rose stepped into the lift.

"High-functioning sociopath. There is a difference. Keep up, Anderson, unless you want to get caught." Sherlock murmured and Adam hurried into the lift before the doors closed.

"I hate you." Adam said, pressing the button for the cage level.

"I know the feeling." Sherlock said as they headed down.

They arrived at the cage level and Adam showed his security pass, hoping that the message about apprehending Sherlock and Rose hadn't reached that level yet. He came up with a fake story that they were ordered to check on the Dalek and see how it was faring and if its weapons system could be detached as soon as possible.

"Van Statten doesn't like delays." Adam remarked, hoping the security guard wouldn't call his supervisor to check out his story. There were so many things that could go wrong here, he was already seeing the prison cell he would wind up in.

The guard on duty briefly scanned Adam's security pass and, though wary of the two strangers, he assumed their story was correct and allowed them inside the cage. Sherlock barred the door from the inside while Rose looked over at the Dalek, unnoticed by the other two guys. Adam was in such a state of shock and relieved that their plan had worked that he didn't hear Sherlock calling him over.

"Adam. Adam. Anderson." Sherlock hissed, grabbing Adam's arm and tugging him over to the workstation just below the security camera. "Set up your laptop over here. Maybe do some kind of base-wide lockdown that no one except us can unlock. We'll make sure no one can get in or out, hold the whole base hostage this way." He grinned, twiddling his fingers together.

"You're enjoying this!" Adam accused, yet he was already setting up his laptop and starting the base lockdown procedure.

"So what if I am? It's not like things can get any worse than they are now." Sherlock commented before he noticed that Rose was talking to the Dalek, which told her that it was dying, although she was a little too close to the Dalek for his taste. Sherlock frowned as he approached them and said, "Rose, how about we take a step back here, away from-"

However as Rose laid a hand on the Dalek to comfort it, and Sherlock accidentally found himself touching the Dalek as well in his attempt to pull her away, the Dalek seemed to light up and regain a spark of life, screeching about some kind of genetic code before it strained and broke its chains. Adam panicked at the Dalek's revitalization and abandoned his laptop and raced over to the cage door to unlock it.

Sherlock and Rose backed up in horror as Rose said, "What did you do?"

"What did I do? What about you?" Sherlock accused, but as Simmons the Dalek's keeper entered the cage to contain and control the Dalek again, the Dalek faced Simmons with its plunger and suckered him to death, a terrifying sight.

"What have we done?" Sherlock murmured as they retreated and the guards started firing at the Dalek. One of the guards, a woman named di Maggio, raced off after the civilians.


	17. Towards the Light

**Finally finished 'Dalek', working on this chapter off and on for a couple of weeks now. Series 8 has ended, but 'Last Christmas' is coming, who knows what will happen then? I find myself incorporating some details here and there about the Doctor being a soldier, with that influence, and I read 'About Time 7: Unauthorized Guide to Doctor Who Series 1 &amp; 2' awhile ago, which has inspired me in terms of a couple of their theories in regards to this episode and the series in general.**

"Where are you taking me?" John asked, staring around at the guards escorting him out of the lift as he threw one last backwards glance at the Doctor, still heavily guarded inside the lift with Van Statten and his assistant Diana Goddard standing nearby as the lift doors closed. In that moment, he feared this might be the last time he saw the Time Lord, his head held high and resolute with the hint of a desperate, manic twinge to his lips, before the alien was lost in Van Statten's repository.

"You heard Van Statten, we're taking you and your friends out of here." The guard said, turning back to Watson. "Standard operating procedure, wipe your memories and leave you stranded miles away from here so that you can't spill any of Van Statten's secrets."

"What? No, no, take me back downstairs!" John cried. "Take me back to that museum of alien artifacts. My friends and I, we need to get something, we left something behind down there." He insisted. They had to at least get the TARDIS out of there, if they could figure out how to pilot the alien vessel, so that it wouldn't fall into the hands of Van Statten. And maybe they could figure out a way of saving the Doctor as well.

"No can do, complete opposite direction of where we're going." The guard insisted. "We're heading this way, up and out towards the light."

John struggled and tried to run away again, but they stunned him and forced him to keep moving again, heading towards a processing center where fired employees' memories were wiped. John was slightly disturbed at the idea that firing and wiping away the memories of Van Statten's employees must be a common enough occurrence that they had developed it into a system, but then again, everything that had happened here today so far had disturbed him and the Doctor to a tremendous degree. It wasn't every day they confronted the last living Dalek, after all.

He wondered just what he would or wouldn't remember when they wiped his memories, if he would forget about Sherlock or the Doctor or Rose. Would he remember anything about who he was? Would he be left out like a bum on the street somewhere in the United States? Good grief, he didn't exactly know—suddenly, as John was about to face the memory wipe machine, alarms rang and lights flashed throughout the underground base.

The soldiers and technician in charge of the machine halted, nervously glancing around as well and let go of John, who stepped back from the machine, shuddering. He was relieved that he wouldn't have to face the device for the moment, but now he was wondering what was going on here.

"Full alert, all personnel, I repeat, full alert." A woman announced over the speakers. "This base is under lockdown. The cage has been breached. I repeat, the cage has been breached and we are under attack."

"The Dalek." John breathed, staring at the others. "You have to let us go. The Doctor is the only one who can handle this. You have to let him go!" He cried.

A few minutes later, John was escorted back to Van Statten's office, and breathed a sigh of relief to see the Doctor standing there, checking out the situation on the monitor and trying to organize an armed response to the Dalek.

"How's it going? Are you all right?" John asked, approaching and examining the Doctor as best he could for any sign of harm or pain, if Van Statten had tortured him.

He couldn't tell if the Doctor had been wounded, although he appeared to be tired and even more wan and worn than he had been before. John grimaced at Van Statten across the room, the man was frantic, but still smug and sure of himself, as if he expected everything to be all right. John couldn't believe that the Doctor might still be helping the man who had tortured and threatened him, but with a Dalek loose, perhaps priorities should be different right now.

"Now's not the best time for this, but I'm fine. How about you?" The Doctor said, grinning at John before he went back to business.

John was slightly reassured, hoping everything might still be all right, although he feared it was a false hope. And he worried about the Doctor as well, falling back into the routine of a commander, probably still fighting the Time War in his mind. This had to be a step backwards for him from whatever progress he might have been making in forgetting or at least releasing his memories of the Time War.

"How did the Dalek escape?" John asked, uneasy.

"Your friends helped." Diana Goddard pointed out, showing them security footage of Sherlock, Rose, and Adam inside the vault with the Dalek just as it broke its chains, shocking the pair.

"Sherlock is really getting on my nerves now." The Doctor muttered in a dark, threatening way.

"Rose had a hand in it, too, literally." John remarked, trying to pacify the Doctor's rage towards his lover. "It looks like Sherlock was trying to stop her. I don't understand this, what is going on here?"

"DNA extrapolation, of course." The Doctor muttered, staring at the footage. "It burned whoever touched it because it was trying to get the DNA sample of a time traveler to revive its technological capabilities. One of the easiest ways for Daleks to access and use stolen time travel technology, as well as revive themselves, during the Time War was to extract Time Lord DNA from their prisoners before they were executed."

"So they revived it?" John asked, gobsmacked. "Just by traveling through time and space in the TARDIS, Sherlock and Rose had enough of that power in their DNA to revive the Dalek?"

"Time travel can be a powerful thing." The Doctor shrugged and then frowned as he saw the Dalek accessing the laptop Adam left behind, using it to download power from the electricity grid and then the internet, apparently literally.

"The internet?" John gaped. "It's downloading the whole damn internet! That's insane! Why would it do such a thing?"

"It's trying to find out information of any sort," The Doctor muttered to himself, and frowned. "But how? How did it know what the internet was for? It must have found the internet connection somewhere, accessing a worldwide network of mainframes and servers, but to go straight for it means that the information about the internet was hardwired into him." His eyes widened and he gasped. "Oh, no, no, don't tell me it got...how could it?"

"What are you talking about?" John asked him.

"Nothing or something, doesn't matter at this point." The Doctor muttered, shaking his head. "We just have to deal with it."

"Wait a minute!" di Maggio cried, chasing after Sherlock, Rose, and Adam. "Where are you three going? What did you do? What did you do?"

"We freed it, all right!" Sherlock shouted, facing the soldier. "We freed the Dalek and now all that's left to do is run, because that's the only way to survive this thing! Run, until the Doctor figures a way out of this mess we're in!" Rose and Adam cowered back, afraid of what was going to happen next.

Di Maggio growled. "This is all your fault, you coward. One man is already dead, more will probably die, and you're leaving us to deal with your mess?" She griped her gun tighter, and leveled it towards Sherlock. "I ought to kill you for what's happening now."

Sherlock grimaced and closed his eyes, prepared to face that fate, when Rose stepped in front of him and told di Maggio, "I'm sorry, okay? We're both sorry. It's all of our faults. Adam helped us out as well."

Sherlock inched his eyes open, surprised that Rose would stand up for him and face such a threat, taking responsibility for her actions as well. She really was quite brave, he realized. Di Maggio hesitated, not quite certain what to think about what was going on here, as she began to lower her weapon.

"Hey, I'm not with them!" Adam cried, retreating to avoid di Maggio's gun.

"Anderson, you coward." Sherlock coldly muttered. "I'm sorry as well." He managed to tell di Maggio. He wasn't used to apologizing, but now might be the best and most deserved time to extend such a deference.

"My name is Adam!" Adam shouted.

"Quiet." Di Maggio said, lowering her gun all the way and glancing around. "It's coming. Let's head for the stairs." She said, running off with the others catching up with her.

"The stairs?" Sherlock gaped at her as they entered the stairwell and climbed. "Do you honestly believe the stairs would stop an intergalactic conqueror who's killed and destroyed more peoples and worlds than you can possibly imagine? It can probably hover or fly. Maybe with miniature rockets or something like that." Rose felt like laughing at the last bit, although now wasn't a good time for that.

"Oh, we're all going to die." Adam shuddered, shaking his head.

Di Maggio hesitated as they kept climbing and said, "Well, we can at least try to get away from it. Maybe get out of the base and lock it down in here, if at all possible."

"It'll probably get out." Sherlock shook his head. "Hardly anything will stop a Dalek from what I've heard, except for the Doctor."

"Well, where is he, then?" Rose cried, frantic. "Where is the Doctor to help us out? He's probably still locked up, John as well, helpless!"

"No, not even Van Statten would be so foolish and dumb!" Sherlock cried. "He probably freed the Doctor at least once he realized what was going on. You can probably call the Doctor-and we are nitwits." Sherlock slapped his forehead. "Our phones! Call them!"

"Right, I'll ring up the Doctor, in case he's still mad at you." Rose said, pulling out her mobile and dialing as she ran.

"I know the feeling well!" Adam cried.

"Shut up, Anderson!" Sherlock cried, getting out his mobile to contact John, although he was relieved that he wouldn't have to talk to the Doctor right now.

Both mobiles rang inside Van Statten's office, Van Statten and his assistant turning their heads as the Doctor and John checked and quickly answered, "Rose!" "Sherlock!"

"I'm sorry, we didn't mean for anything like this to happen." Rose told the Doctor, still running as di Maggio herded them out of the stairwell into a warehouse area on a higher level. "It was just a ruse to save you and John!"

Sherlock said pretty much the same to John, glancing around at all of the soldiers and scientists running about the warehouse area, arming themselves and taking up firing positions. "John, this is probably pretty much the worst idea we could have possibly had, but we meant well."

"You shouldn't have done it." The Doctor muttered, shaking his head.

"Meaning well is not the same as doing good!" John groaned.

"You're right, you're right." Both Sherlock and Rose said, glancing at each other as well, abashed as di Maggio herded them and Adam out of the warehouse.

But then di Maggio hesitated to follow them as she saw her fellow soldiers getting ready to fight, and heard her commander telling someone over the radio that they could fight a tin robot. They didn't know what they were getting into, she realized, and they might need every gun they could get to stop this thing.

She told Adam and the others, "Keep going, keep heading out of here. I need to stay behind and help!" She took up a firing position along with the rest of the soldiers.

"She's going to get herself killed." Sherlock said, shaking his head as they exited out of the room.

Just then, the Dalek entered and spotted them. Even Sherlock was disturbed by the knowing glance the Dalek seemed to direct towards them before they got away. Rose mentioned her uneasiness over the phone to the Doctor as well as to Adam and Sherlock. Sherlock didn't mention his own premonition as it was probably nothing. But back in Van Statten's office, the Doctor raised his head, staring at the security feed from the warehouse.

"It's got your DNA, yours and Sherlock's from when you both touched it." The Doctor told Rose. "I don't know exactly what that means, but maybe it's nothing or something."

"Is that what you were worried about before?" John questioned the Doctor, but he didn't say anything.

Rose gaped and hung up as she told Adam and Sherlock what the Doctor had said. Sherlock frowned and said, "I'm not superstitious enough to believe in voodoo or blood magic, but even I find it oddly disconcerting that thing has a piece of me inside of it." He had not hung up on his phone, however. John could still hear him on the other end as he could hear John.

"It's just DNA." Adam insisted, shaking his head. "Just strands of molecules. This Dalek can't do anything with that sort of genetic material, can it?"

"But our DNA might have brought it back to life." Sherlock muttered to Rose. "We really did revive it to its current state."

"No." Rose said, shaking her head. "I can't believe this is our fault. We haven't really done anything, have we?"

"Let's just get out of here!" Adam insisted, and they started running again as they heard guns firing behind them. Guns that continued until they were silenced. The trio tried to escape their fear and blame, the guilt they had over the people, including di Maggio, left behind to die while they continued on, but they couldn't escape the unstoppable Dalek forever. They had to keep climbing.

"She hung up on me." The Doctor said, staring aghast at the phone. "Why did she hang up on me?"

But then John watched, horrified, along with Van Statten, Diana Godard, and the Doctor as the Dalek, unperturbed by the bullets fired at it, hovered and then electrocuted all of the soldiers and scientists left in the warehouse. It didn't even flinch, just stared down at all of the dead and dying, and John shivered at such a cold, relentless, unfeeling being. What was this monster?

"John? John, what is happening?" Sherlock asked, realizing something was wrong.

"I'll call you back." John managed to say, hanging up on Sherlock when he still could not process what was happening. Sherlock guessed what was wrong, though, and did not attempt to contact John again.

The Doctor grimaced as he glanced over at John, not wanting him to see this either, but the Doctor had gotten used to this after centuries of fighting the Daleks. Van Statten managed to recover quickly enough, insisting on their escape, but John didn't see how they could manage it. The Doctor, however, agreed on the possibility of sealing in the Dalek, an opportunity Van Statten seized upon.

"Like a tomb with the rest of us trapped inside." John murmured, shaking his head.

"Unless there is a way to escape." The Doctor added, glancing at John, wordlessly reminding him about the TARDIS.

John slowly nodded, having momentarily forgotten about it with the horror of everything going on, but now he wondered if they could reach it. Van Statten paused and looked at them, noticing something amiss, but he didn't get the chance to ask. The Dalek appeared on the screen, and spoke to them, or more correctly, the Doctor.

"I determined this was the best course of action." The Dalek said. "I determined the outcome of this action long before I carried it out. My mind has changed and expanded beyond what I have known. I can see cause and effect. I can deduce who and what these people are. I can see traces of their lives in their remains and it sickens me."

"You can't do that, can you?" The Doctor asked, staring at the Dalek as John straightened up, astonished. It sounded a lot like what Sherlock could do at times.

"I can now. Something has happened to me inside. I believe it happened when I fed off of the DNA of Sherlock Holmes and Rose Tyler." The Dalek said.

The Doctor chose not to comment, disregarding the news when he did not want to consider the possibilities. But John shivered at the thought of this Dalek possessing a part of Sherlock's knowledge and skills as the Dalek and the Doctor spoke about not finding any more Daleks and what this Dalek should do now. It was like Sherlock, but only a hundred—no, a thousand times worse. What this creature could do, what it had done, how much worse would it be now with so much potential skills and knowledge and absolutely no feelings?

When the Dalek asked for a command, the Doctor straightened like he was a commanding officer once more back in the Time War, and told it to die, snapping at it like a fierce drill sergeant. John stared at the Doctor in horror, not recognizing him for a moment as he saw what he must have been like during such a fight. Though he didn't quite agree with what the Dalek said about the Doctor's suitability as a Dalek, he still could see what the Daleks had done to the Doctor, breaking him down and changing him into something like a monster.

"You're not like this and you're not like them." John insisted, confronting the Doctor for a moment. "You're not."

The Doctor shook his head and went around John, issuing another order to Van Statten to seal the vault. "They're still down there!" John cried, causing the Doctor to turn back to him. "Rose and Sherlock, where are they?"

The Doctor called Rose then and told her about the situation, and she relayed that information to Sherlock and Adam, causing them both to groan. "I don't know much about this Doctor of yours, but he certainly isn't helping us much right now!" Adam cried.

"He's doing the best he can, Anderson!" Sherlock shouted. "Sometimes he has no choice. I might have done the same." He muttered.

"Adam! Adam! How hard is it for you to understand or remember-"

"Forget about it, run!" Rose panted, trying to keep up with them. So many steps, winding up and up, and they were pounding up as fast as they could, but even she could tell that she was falling fast behind, that she couldn't keep up this pace forever. Why couldn't the Doctor save them?

"Please, Doctor, please, just one second more." John begged, thinking about Rose and Sherlock dying like those soldiers did, shot down by that Dalek's ray.

But the power was fading and the other two were telling the Doctor to act. John could see the panic and fear in the Doctor's eyes, but then the indecision faded away to resignation as the Doctor pressed the button and apologized, to himself, John, Rose, Sherlock and the rest. John grimaced and looked away, unable to stand the sight of him for a moment. The Doctor felt the same way.

As Sherlock and Adam rounded the corner and saw the bulkhead falling, Sherlock spun about and saw Rose was lagging behind. "Adam, stop!" Sherlock shouted, but the other fellow kept sprinting like he was trying to make a home run. Sherlock slowed and reached out, grabbing Rose's hand to try and pull her along if he could. Adam dropped and rolled under the bulkhead door just before it slammed shut, pulling Sherlock and Rose up to a halt.

"Anderson!" Sherlock pounded on the bulkhead door as Rose tearfully sagged against it. "Anderson, if it's the last thing, I do, I'm going to kill you!"

"Please leave him alone." Rose sniffled. "It's not his fault."

"I feel like blaming him." Sherlock muttered, glancing at her. She shouldn't be here, he realized, she shouldn't die like this.

Rose and Sherlock both received calls at the same time, and reluctantly answered their phones, telling them the situation. "I can't believe this happened." Sherlock sighed. "I love you very much, John Watson." He gripped Rose's hand for comfort without his lover by his side in this moment as they turned to face the Dalek. For a moment, even Rose felt stronger and braver in the face of death with Sherlock's hand in hers. He was a true friend now.

"Don't do this to me." John huffed. "I love you, too, Sherlock Holmes." He gasped and choked back a sob as he heard the Dalek shouting and firing, dropping his phone while the Doctor looked around in disbelief and anger at Van Statten, ranting and raving.

"Doctor, please, let it go!" John shouted, shaking his head. "They're…dead, gone." He whispered, staring down at his phone as he thought he heard something on the other end. "Sherlock?" He whispered, picking up the phone and listening with some faint sign of hope. The Doctor paused and turned, listening to him.

"I don't believe it." Sherlock said, shaking his head as he stared at the Dalek. "I don't believe it. Are you seeing this, Rose?" She slowly nodded, astonished as well, before she started talking to the Dalek. Sherlock laughed, in spite of the Dalek's threats, doubt, and questioning, firing off random shots around them without hitting them. "Sherlock? Sherlock?" He heard John saying on the other end.

Sherlock reached down for his mobile and said, "We're still alive, John. The bloody Dalek is having an identity crisis. I think our DNA must have overloaded his circuits."

"This is not logical." The Dalek said. "This is wrong. Wrong!"

"What?" John gasped as Adam arrived in Van Statten's office and the Dalek appeared with his two captives on the screen, astonishing and cheering up the Doctor to see both Sherlock and Rose alive and well. John wiped away his tears and managed to weakly smile.

It wasn't just Rose's life he had feared for, he realized then, but Sherlock as well and how John would handle such a death. No, despite the chaos, anger, and angst Sherlock had brought into his life, the Doctor wanted his friend to live as well. The Dalek threatened them, and the Doctor gave in, letting them go, but he still had to take care of the Dalek.

Adam showed them his collection of uncatalogued alien artifacts, with John and the Doctor rifling through them until they found suitable weapons. John gripped his tightly, feeling like he was already prepared to fight to save Sherlock and Rose. In that moment, he was actually glad the Doctor was a soldier like him, also prepared to do the same, not like the lame boast Adam had made to try boosting himself.

Meanwhile, Rose, Sherlock and the Dalek went up in the lift, which Sherlock momentarily thought might make a good joke someday if they survived, but it wasn't funny as the Dalek seemed almost delirious and afraid of what was happening in him, shrieking out questions and strange phrases, some of which Sherlock identified as his own and words that he had heard Rose say. The Dalek confronted Van Statten and Sherlock grimaced as the man begged, almost wishing the Dalek would destroy him, but then Rose held the Dalek back. Sherlock gaped, realizing how fast things had gone downhill and deteriorated with the Dalek if it wanted freedom…that concept was foreign to Daleks, as far as he was aware of.

Was it a trick? Was the Dalek just trying to escape? Sherlock didn't know for sure, but he followed after Rose and the Dalek as she took command of the situation and the creature, although was the Dalek really as powerless and helpless as it pretended to be? He couldn't say, but he was glad when the Dalek fired up at the ceiling and sunlight flooded down, the freshest air and light they had known in what felt like years. Usually he didn't mind where he was or what condition he might be in, but now he felt like he needed such sunlight.

Sherlock stepped back, wary as the outer casing opened, revealing the creature inside, and it was a disgusting, pitiful thing. Could this really be the true Dalek, controlling such a monstrosity? It seemed almost impossible. They both turned around when the Doctor and John arrived, the Doctor fierce and determined to destroy the Dalek, although John realized what was happening and slowly lowered his gun sooner, overtaken with awe and shock at the sight of the exposed Dalek and relief that Sherlock and Rose were truly fine. Was this what they feared, what threatened them, what destroyed? He couldn't believe it.

Sherlock smiled in approval as Rose confronted the Doctor, proud of her strength as he went around to embrace John. He wasn't certain who was right or wrong here, but maybe they both were. John returned the hug and kissed him, not wanting to let go as Rose, the Doctor, and the Dalek spoke to each other. Finally, Rose commanded the Dalek to destroy itself. Sherlock and John watched, amazed and saddened by what was happening as John shivered and Sherlock clutched him tightly. They had each other again, but it still didn't seem right. Life could be painful, Sherlock agreed with the Dalek there, but it still was worth living for in his opinion, especially with friends and a lover like he had.

The Dalek supposedly destroyed itself while the Doctor looked on in disbelief, nothing left, although part of Sherlock wondered if the Dalek was truly dead and gone, or if it had just left. He couldn't tell, though, and he didn't feel like asking so many questions right now. John was tired, they all were, and they just wanted to go and leave this dreadful place behind them forever. Perhaps they were responsible for what happened here, all the more reason for them to leave. They dredged back down to Van Statten's museum, not speaking, but clutching each other tightly for comfort and support. They heard Van Statten screaming as guards dragged him away, but they didn't pay attention to him anymore. He couldn't hurt anyone anymore.

"I'm sorry, Doctor, for what happened." Sherlock whispered as they entered the museum and were confronted with alien artifacts and remains. "I didn't mean for-"

"I got carried away." The Doctor whispered, facing Rose, Sherlock, and John. "I was overwhelmed by what I was facing here. We all were. I'm sorry, too, for what I did or didn't do. I didn't mean for any of this to happen and I know that's true for all of you as well." The others nodded and he sadly smiled as they discussed the end of the Time War and how none of them were leaving.

"Rose! Doctor! Sherlock! John!" Adam cried, racing after them.

"Ugh, Anderson." Sherlock whispered, causing a few stares from John and the Doctor as Rose stifled a laugh.

Adam explained what was going on here and then said, "Rose promised if I helped, I could get on board your spaceship?" His eyes pleaded with the Doctor, glancing at the blue box behind him as he wondered what it was.

Sherlock and the Doctor protested, but Rose insisted and John had no qualms, so eventually Adam did find his way on board the TARDIS, marveling at the giant space. Sherlock suspected things would not go well here and he suspected the Doctor felt the same. They would have to see what happened, and watch out for Adam.


	18. Satellite Five

Happy New Year! 2015 is here, Last Christmas just aired, and it looks like Capaldi is here to stay-yay! I wonder what the new year and series 9 will bring? We'll find out someday, I suppose. But first off, Long Game...how appropriate, the Long Game of waiting for next series.

* * *

Adam, or Anderson as Sherlock preferred to call him, simply remained gob-smacked and kept asking questions of everybody as they took a tour through the TARDIS, showing it off to him. Sherlock grew bored and annoyed with the man, whose words confirmed that he was an idiot of the highest degree, whatever sort of technological know-how he had obtained, and wandered off before too long. Even Anderson might have been better than this fellow, although Sherlock feared he might have truly gone insane if either Anderson or Donovan had ever wound up on the TARDIS with him, worse if it was both of them.

John joined him and they enjoyed themselves, recovering from that episode of the horrible Dalek, before they went back to meet the Doctor, Rose, and Adam-ugh-as they prepared to materialize. "So where or when are we going?" Sherlock asked.

"Somewhere in the future, Adam's request." The Doctor remarked, nodding at the man. "First trip, his choice."

"Good for you." John smiled.

"If this thing can really travel through time as well as space, I want to see how great it is in the future when people really figure out how to take advantage of all the technological advances and ideas we've come up with." Adam remarked, staring at the console screen. "I want to see science fiction become reality. Exploring space, building giant structures, advancing physics, chemistry, biology, robotics, everything and anything. I want to see it all and get a taste of how far we can really go."

"Well, you're probably going to enjoy yourself." Sherlock remarked, glancing at John. "I hope you take notes, maybe write a science fiction book-"

"No notes." The Doctor emphasized, shaking his head. "Not even for science fiction. Can't have everything spoiled and predicted before it comes true, can we? We need an air of mystery and uncertainty about things, after all, or else time can get completely derailed."

"Right, I'll keep that in mind." John murmured to himself, for he had already been thinking about posting some details on his blog, possibly in the form of fiction.

"Yes, of course I'll keep quiet." Adam added, though his mind was still abuzz and full of wonder and speculation about what he might do or see as Sherlock eyed the other man suspiciously.

As soon as they had materialized, the Doctor and Rose stepped out to look around with John right behind, but Sherlock hung back and tugged on Adam's shirt, stopping him a moment. Sherlock glared at Adam. "You left us behind to die, facing that Dalek."

Adam shivered. "I didn't mean to leave you two behind. I thought you two would be able to run fast enough to get away and keep ahead of that closing door."

"Next time, if you get into trouble, I won't be helping you." Sherlock said, letting go of Adam. "Consider that your punishment."

Adam frowned. "Okay, that's understandable. I wouldn't want your help anyway. I mean, I probably won't need it, since everything will be all right, won't it?"

Sherlock laughed and shook his head. "Oh, Adam, that Dalek is not the first time we've ever gotten into trouble traveling with the Doctor. Practically everywhere we go, there's some sort of trouble or danger and we're always in the thick of it. So pay attention to the Doctor, be careful where you go, and don't do anything that will get you killed. Okay?"

Adam gaped at Sherlock. "Okay, I'll try not to do that."

"Splendid. Thanks for the laugh, by the way, I needed that." Sherlock remarked, walking outside as Adam hesitated again about crossing the threshold.

The Doctor was telling Rose and John where and when they were as Sherlock joined them. "It reminds me of a modern art gallery," John said, looking around at the décor, "Although with all of these monitors and sets around, might be a media exhibition."

Sherlock sniffed the air and remarked, "Canteen. This is definitely a canteen, bit greasy."

The Doctor frowned and sniffed as well. "All right, you could be right about that, but even space stations need artwork and canteens to satisfy the people who live and work up here."

"I concede the point." Sherlock said, trying to be as courteous as possible to the Doctor after the trouble they had before.

"I will try to remember that, although it is a bit hot up here, isn't it?" Rose remarked as she told Adam to come out.

Sherlock shrugged. "Mildly warm and humid, but not totally unbearable. Might have something to do with engines or plumbing gone wrong."

"I hope we're going to get a repeat of Platform One and those solar flares again." John muttered, shaking his head.

"No, wrong year for that sort of thing, and the engines sound like they're fine." The Doctor said, glancing around. "Working a bit hard, but still good."

"Are you sure that it's safe?" Adam asked, standing on the threshold and cautiously poking his head out to look round before Rose coaxed him out.

"What did you do to spook Adam here?" John asked Sherlock.

"Nothing much, I just told him the truth about the sort of situations we might get into." Sherlock told John, smiling as Rose managed to impart everything she had just learned to Adam.

The Doctor and Sherlock laughed as John apologized to Adam and Rose suggested that they should go check out what was on the other side of the gate. They headed up onto the viewing platform, marveling at the panorama of Earth below them, covered with gray megacity blocks with five moons circling the planet. The Doctor described what they were seeing, the Fourth Great and Bountiful Human Empire, although Sherlock glanced around at the gritty, industrial interior of the space station, masked in some parts by its artistic décor and screens, but not well enough, surrounding them and frowned to himself.

He glanced down at the megacities and moons covering the Earth and could not quite shake off this feeling that something must be wrong here. For though it looked like this empire might have some power and industry, enough to compensate for its galactic ambitions, it did not seem as appealing or 'bountiful' as one might imagine. Perhaps he was just being too skeptical, critical, or demanding of what a human galactic empire might be like, but he might have expected more out of something like this.

Adam fainted, causing Sherlock and John to laugh as Rose frowned to herself, but then they sobered up again. "Is there anything green down there at all?" John asked, sighing to himself. "Any forest or field left at all?"

"There are some spots that are still preserved." The Doctor pointed out to John, describing how the cities are arranged with green belts around the edges, and how some of the buildings actually contain entire rainforests inside of them to improve air quality. "It might not be perfect, but humans still manage to conserve and maintain some of the best parts of the planet. And they did a better job when it came to other planets."

John nodded. "It's not the same, but thanks anyway for telling me."

"We came from an underground bunker to a space station overlooking a gray Earth." Sherlock said and glanced at the Doctor. "Next time, try going somewhere a little greener."

"All right, forest planet if I can find one." The Doctor muttered to himself.

"Five moons? Isn't that a bit excessive?" Rose asked, turning to the Doctor as she tried to revive Adam. "What about the tides and all of that gravitational stuff?"

"Artificial moons, and they control the balance well enough that the tides aren't major problems." The Doctor added. "Took them awhile to arrange, though. The artificial moons helped them send out giant colony ships to other planets."

Sherlock had wandered off and noticed a computer interface system, which he accessed and saw a picture of the space station and its name, Satellite Five. Sherlock frowned to himself and remarked, "This space station looks an awful lot like Platform One."

"Bit of a classic design in human space engineering, something about that shape must appeal to you all." The Doctor remarked as Adam got up, supported by Rose for a moment as he remained slightly stunned.

Sherlock turned and twisted his head, examining the shape. "I still don't quite get it."

"Hang on a minute," John said, reaching into his pocket and pulling out a brochure or flier with the Platform One logo on it. "I remember reading something about that shape inside this bit of literature—here we go." John found the passage and read: "'Platform One is designed to commemorate the classic Fourth Great and Bountiful Human Empire Space Platform design, honoring the achievements of Earth and its humans during its finest, tragic hour.'" John frowned to himself as the others looked up and stared at him. "'Finest, tragic hour?' Doctor, do you know anything about this?" He asked, looking up at the Time Lord.

The Doctor frowned and shook his head. "No clue. Isn't that exciting?" He remarked, heading back towards the canteen as the others followed him. "History might be rewriting itself as we speak."

Sherlock sighed. "You really must have made some poor grades in your studies, am I right?"

"How did you guess?" The Doctor said.

"I never guess, I deduce! It's totally different." Sherlock told him.

"Of course it is. And you would have been top of the class back at-." The Doctor stopped himself and shook his head, grimacing as he didn't care to say anymore.

John and Sherlock glanced at each other, realizing the Doctor might have been talking about his home planet of Gallifrey, but they didn't say anything as Adam kept mumbling, "This is insane, every bit of it."

The Doctor told Adam to keep an open mind and remarked upon the culture and intelligence of this era before they were disrupted by the hustle and bustle of the market and canteen springing to life with dozens of people yelling at each other, laughing, haggling over goods and just hanging out. It was a lively crowd that reminded the humans of their own time and place, but it was odd that there weren't any aliens about.

"I wonder if that means anything." Sherlock muttered to himself.

"No more questions." The Doctor said, suddenly launching into a campaign to distract them by insisting that they should try the local cuisine, like they were in Paris. He handed out credit sticks to each of them before he went off to investigate and ask some questions.

Sherlock and John in particular felt a little left in the lurch, wanting to find out more, but they were curious enough to try using the credit sticks and get some food for themselves along with Adam and Rose. They had not eaten since the Dalek episode, and though Sherlock usually wasn't much of a willing eater, he was willing to try something new here.

He didn't eat much, not finding it particularly appetizing, but John was grateful enough that Sherlock had gotten something down his gullet that he didn't mind it much. Afterwards, Sherlock and John got up to browse the wares available for sale while Adam and Rose checked out something on her phone.

Sherlock shook his head and remarked, "'Finest, tragic hour'…this is getting suspicious. And that culture he was talking about—I can see the sophistication in some of the design elements on this space station, but there are other areas that appear to be more lacking in that regard."

"What are you suggesting?" John asked. He saw the way Sherlock studied his surroundings, and knew that Sherlock was deducing the context and function of this area.

"This space station appears to be a broadcast satellite." Sherlock remarked to John, turning to face him. "I noticed some interesting beacons on that computer display of Satellite Five. Their obsession with the screens tuned to dozens, no, hundreds of news stations show their specialty is intergalactic media journalism. Most of the news programs seem to be detailing some form of natural or artificial catastrophe, occurring on all sorts of different planets. Hardly anything on what's happening on Earth." Sherlock frowned to himself as he studied the screens. "It's almost like some form of intimidation tactic, designed to keep people away from traveling off-world."

"Huh." John said, glancing back and forth between Sherlock and the screens. "So what is it about their culture and society that is so different from ours, apart from their technological advances?"

"Exactly right." Sherlock nodded to himself. "It's almost 198,000 years later and human culture doesn't seem to have changed much at all."

John shuddered. "That's disturbing. I mean, you would think in such a long period of time, longer than human society has even existed in our time, they would have changed or advanced somehow as a society or culture. Developed farther along than watching the news."

"And look at the way people are sitting around here, grouped into cliques." Sherlock remarked, pointing out the arrangements of people and tables. "I bet it's very competitive here, people looking to advance and move on by any means necessary." He noticed that Adam seemed to be interested in something with Rose's cell-phone, but he chose to ignore it for a moment, figuring that it might be harmless. He had temporarily forgotten the trouble Adam had once gotten into breaking into a defense system.

John slowly nodded as the Doctor returned, introduced two of the employees here, Cathica and Suki, and they all went off to see a demonstration of broadcast journalism in the year 200,000. This involved spikes of raw data and information being beamed directly into Cathica's brain through a port in her forehead that flipped open with a snap of her fingers.

Her mind subconsciously sifted through all of the data, selecting choice news bits. Then it compiled and arranged the information into a package news program for viewers' enlightenment and entertainment. Several people seated around her received the packaged news programs and transmitted them out into the universe.

John, Adam, and Rose stared at the scene, gob-smacked, as Sherlock frowned where he stood alongside the Doctor. "This is wrong, isn't it?" Sherlock remarked, turning to the Time Lord. "I will admit to being obsessed with some forms of technology myself and being an early adaptor of them, such as texting. But even I wouldn't go so far as to split open my brain and expose that part of myself to the outside world. It's almost too vulnerable. Anyone can mess with it and I would prefer to keep that part of myself locked up."

"Except for when he wants to show off." John remarked, causing the others to chuckle and Sherlock to frown.

The Doctor glanced over at Sherlock. "You're right about that. Humans, always going in for the latest look, trend, or technology, never stopping to think just what you might do with it, or what other people might do with it as well."

Sherlock nodded. "That's true. Criminals certainly are quite capable and adaptable at using and developing new forms of technology for their benefit."

The Doctor grinned. "I certainly do like your perspective. And this technology is definitely wrong, almost 100 years wrong. Humans should have abandoned this form of technology for another, better means of communication and transmission decades ago, but they never did. Someone or something is taking advantage of the human propensity for staying stuck in a rut, static, and quelling any other form of technological development."

Before Sherlock could ask anymore, the information flow was disrupted and Suki was promoted to Floor 500, ending the discussion. Adam raced out of there, apparently unable to handle watching any more of this, and they followed him out. Sherlock, however, was getting bored with Adam's antics. He made some sort of excuse to Rose about not being able to accompany them, wanting some privacy and space to reflect, and showed off his puppy dog eyes to convince Rose to let him go alone.

"That man is definitely up to something." Sherlock muttered, and he could have sworn he saw Adam laughing as he left like a real-life comic book supervillain.

"Do you want to follow him and find out?" John asked Sherlock.

Sherlock sighed, hesitating between wanting to investigate Adam's actions and not wanting to be around him, when Suki appeared to tell them all good-bye and leave. Cathica casually remarked they would never see her again. She would vanish upstairs, where the walls are made of gold, a blatant lie that intrigued Sherlock enough. He followed after the Doctor and the others as they pursued Cathica to try and get her to open up about what was going on here, and convince her journalistic side that something was wrong here.

However, Sherlock grew bored again as the Doctor and the others apparently seemed more interested in Satellite Five's inner workings, diving right into a mass of wires. "This is getting ridiculous," Sherlock muttered, itching to do something more exciting. "We should be charging upstairs after her instead of-"

"Will you please shut it?" The Doctor sighed, facing Sherlock. "It's bad enough that I'm getting flak from Cathica here. I thought you would be more involved in this sort of thing."

"We're investigating, aren't we?" John asked, turning to Sherlock. "It's not always going to be about dealing with alien menaces or facing ray guns, traveling with the Doctor."

"But that's way more fun and exciting than this!" Sherlock remarked.

"And dangerous as well." John said.

"Come on, you love it," Sherlock said as the others were talking about the heating problem with Rose getting high marks from the Doctor.

"Plumbing." Sherlock groaned. "I ought to go find Adam and make sure he gets a whiff out of this."

"Hold on a minute, Sherlock, you might actually enjoy this." The Doctor said as he and Cathica pointed out that all of the cooling and ventilation systems were working hard to circulate all hot air down.

Now Sherlock was intrigued. "How cold is it up there?" He asked, staring at the screen. "Because if all of them are working to cool down the temperature upstairs and keep all of the heat to the lower floors, then maybe it's really frosty."

The Doctor and the others gaped at Sherlock. "He's right." Cathica said, studying the display. "My god, it is freezing upstairs, well below 0 degrees Celsius. With that kind of temperature control, you might be able to create a blizzard up there."

"It's not made of gold, it's made of ice." Rose said, looking up at the others. "The walls are made of ice."

"The question is, why does it have to be so cold?" Sherlock asked the others. "Who or what needs such a frosty temperature?"

"Let's find out then." The Doctor said, accessing the computer code to get them up to Floor 500 with Cathica in particular being interested.

"You should have done this ages ago, Doctor." Sherlock said

"Sometimes it pays to be well prepared, Sherlock, and know what you are dealing with. Or at least a little bit more than you did before." The Doctor added.

Sherlock turned to Cathica and remarked, "Memorize that code well, you might need it someday." Cathica, annoyed with him, refused to disobey any more than she already had as they all got onto the lift, except for her.

"Come on, Cathica, we might need you." John remarked, but she still turned around and left.

"We don't need her, she's worthless and cowardly. You snooze, you lose!" Sherlock laughed at her retreating back.

"That's a bit rude." John hissed at Sherlock as the lift doors closed, Rose and the Doctor gripping hands.

Sherlock shrugged. "All right, I suppose so, but she didn't want to come and she might have gotten in our way. Worst excuse for a journalist I have ever seen." He grinned to himself. "Adam is going to be so pissed when he finds out how much he missed."

"Why are you so mad at Adam?" Rose asked.

"I just don't like him. He abandoned us, you know." Sherlock turned back to face the others. "He abandoned us, left us to die, and I hate him for that. Plus, he reminds me of Anderson, one of the worst investigators I have ever known. I can't believe they allow him to work at crime scenes. Adam is just like him in that regard."

John sighed and gripped Sherlock's hand, hugging him. "You're all right, Sherlock. You don't have to be afraid."

"I'm not afraid, never afraid of anything." Sherlock said, staring at John. "Just as long as I'm with you. And with our friends." He grinned back at the Doctor and Rose and then cleared his throat, lowering his head in embarrassment as they arrived at Floor 500.

"That's got to be the most human I've ever seen you be." The Doctor remarked.

"I'll try not to make a habit of it." Sherlock remarked.

They all stepped out into the cold, snowy floor and the Doctor hesitated as he asked them to go back, but Sherlock shook his head. "No. We stick together, Doctor. Just as it should be." He remarked, flipping up his collar to keep out the cold and holding his arm out for John to grab as they marched through the area.


	19. Frozen Time

**Surprise! I got into writing/posting mode! And I'm beginning 'Father's Day' immediately after 'The Long Game'! It's interesting to compare how different they really are to each other.**

The Doctor didn't seem affected by the cold, though the others were already chilled by the time they climbed up the steps, their icy hands practically sticking to the cold metal railing, onto a platform full of screens, manned by a frozen staff stuck in their rigid states. Except for one fellow with an icy blue glow to his eyes and cold blond hair slicked back with ice, still moving and walking about as he wore a fashionable suit and a mischievous grin as he glanced towards them. He was the only living person in this frozen tundra, and he joked about starting without them.

"Oh my god, it's the Snow Miser." John said, causing everybody to stare at him in shock.

"What was that?" The snowy, icicle man asked.

"'He's Mr. White Christmas, He's Mr. Snow'…" John started to sing, and then stopped as everyone was still staring at him, somewhat appalled and skeptical.

"John, not right now." Sherlock said.

"I'm too much?" The snow-man asked and then laughed as he said, "I haven't heard that one in years. In fact, I don't think there is anyone living in this age who would have ever heard of that song and cartoon. That's interesting." The snow-man practically clapped for joy and then steepled his fingers together like a Bond villain. "How did you hear of it?"

"Oh, this is not good." Sherlock murmured as the Editor explained about combing through the system, searching for their identities, and not finding a trace of a footstep.

The others remained mum, John feeling really embarrassed now, as Rose launched herself forward when she spotted Suki at the controls. But the Doctor announced that she was dead, much like Gwyneth had been in that basement in Cardiff, being controlled by the Gelth. Except this time around, the chips in their heads were still controlling their dead bodies and Suki's arm lashed out to grab Rose.

"Run!" The Doctor cried as someone grabbed him, and John and Sherlock both managed to get away, running down the steps before the dead could grab them. Neither really knew what they were supposed to do at this point, except to get away to the lift and go down from Floor 500 to find another way of attacking the problem.

Sherlock's mind filed through the options and then he cried, "So obvious!" as they raced out the door, already knowing what they should do as they headed through the canteen/market/lobby space of Floor 500.

But at that same time back on the platform, the Doctor and Rose heard an alien voice speaking and the Editor cried, "Yes, sir, right away, sir!" The Editor dashed forward and told his frozen staff, "Decrease temperature and turn up the wind speed. We're going to make a proper storm in here!"

"You can't do that! You'll kill them!" The Doctor cried as he and Rose were attached by giant handcuffs in place.

"Of course I can do that. I can do whatever the hell I want. I'm in control of this artificial environment here." The Editor laughed and then sang, "'Whatever I touch turns to snow in my clutch. I'm too much'"

The temperature started dropping and the wind speed picked up, blowing a flurry of snowflakes just beyond the platform. Rose sharply inhaled, holding back tears and the shock of the cold.

In the canteen, John tripped and Sherlock went down with him, both of them barely able to get up as the howling wind pressed them down and their frozen bones could barely move. Even though they were just a few feet away from the lift, they could barely see it now, much less crawl towards it. They shivered and huddled closer together for warmth, tightening their grips on each as they managed to breathe.

"Love you." John said to Sherlock, closing his eyes.

"Right back at you, John." Sherlock managed to say, holding onto his lover as for a moment until he felt a blast of warm air, a welcome breeze. John shook his head, clearing his muddled senses as they both looked up at the lift doors opening and the bundled-up woman standing there, wearing snow goggles.

"I always come prepared." Cathica said, staring down at them as she stepped out of the lift and reached into her purse, pulling out a heavy, snow-proof blanket to wrap around the two fellows. "Hang tight, I need to check out the situation here for myself." She remarked, stepping around them to move farther into the room.

"Warm things up if you can, please." Sherlock remarked as he and John clutched at the blanket.

"I will do that." Cathica said.

The Doctor glanced over at Rose, wondering for a moment how long she could last in this environment. Then he tried not to think about that or Sherlock and John dying as the Editor boasted about the Editor-in-Chief, his boss the Mighty Jagrafess of the Holy Hadrojassic Maxaroedenfoe Empire, or Max, being in charge of everything on Satellite Five, Earth, and the Fourth Great and Bountiful 'supposedly Human' Empire.

The Doctor grimaced, not really wanting to get caught up in a debate or villain rant right now with their lives at stake and his human friends freezing. Then he spotted Cathica walking about, clothed in heavy snow gear, and tried to get her attention up towards the Jagrafess and basically tell her how to destroy it by warming things up here. He was fairly certain she understood as she left, but then the Editor, in the midst of interrogating them by electric shock, suddenly gasped as if he had realized something important.

"Time Lord." The cold, icy Editor grinned as he immediately spouted all of this information about who they were, where they came from, and their time-traveling machine. All of it coming from Adam, currently sitting with his head exposed to the broadcast system.

"All of this information, and there's more, much more tucked away inside the archives." The Editor grinned, staring at the Doctor and Rose. "We started cross-referencing the details. I know everything about you four, The Doctor, Rose Tyler, the great detective Sherlock Holmes and his assistant Dr. John Watson. It's all there in the archives, the ancient and not-so-ancient history. No wonder John knew that song."

"What are you talking about?" Rose Tyler asked, nervous and shivering.

"Don't answer her." The Doctor warned the Editor before telling Rose, "Whatever information they have on us might pertain to our futures as well as our pasts."

"Pasts? Of course it's all in our pasts, you four have no futures." The Editor said, annoyed.

The Doctor grimaced, hating Adam in that minute as he properly understood where Sherlock was coming from, and then Cathica finally got into the driver's seat, so to speak. She overrode and accessed control of the broadcast system, shutting down Adam's brain drain and warming things upstairs, frying the entire system as they tried to destroy her.

Sherlock and John roused themselves with the increased heat, managing to get up with the blanket still wrapped around them as they headed for the lift. Rose and the Doctor managed to free themselves and escape before the Jagrafess could blow up. Rose spotted John and Sherlock, and stayed with them as the Doctor went to fetch Cathica and bring her back.

"Thanks for the blanket." John said to Cathica, smiling as they all got onto the lift.

"Sorry if I insulted you earlier." Sherlock mumbled, rueful but somewhat annoyed as well that she had proved to be a better person than he had expected.

"No problem at all." Cathica managed to say, glancing around at him and the others. "Thank you all for helping us."

"Nah, you helped yourselves in the end there." The Doctor remarked, smiling.

"John and I missed quite a bit, didn't we?" Sherlock asked, straightening as he tried to flex his body and check that everything still worked.

"Nah, not too much. Here, keep the blanket wrapped around you." The Doctor said. "Don't want to get hypothermia now, do we?"

John laughed. "You don't have a medical degree, do you?"

"Ask Dr. Lister about that." The Doctor remarked as they reached Floor 139.

Cathica treated them all to a round of warming food beverages, helping to restore John and Sherlock even further. Even Sherlock had to admit he needed the sustenance. The Doctor told Cathica that everything should go back to normal, with Rose, John, and even Sherlock telling her good-bye as the Doctor rounded on Adam now.

Sherlock perked up, excited. "What's wrong? What's going on here? What did Adam do?"

Rose tried to stop the Doctor, making excuses for Adam, as he told John and Sherlock, "He did one of the worst things a time traveler can do—taking advantage of future knowledge for his own gain and to destroy the past. And he betrayed us."

"Oh, goody, this is going to be fun." Sherlock said.

"What are you going to do to him?" John asked as they all got onto the TARDIS and wound up back at Adam's house a few seconds later, faster than they had ever traveled before.

"That was a bit of a blur." Sherlock remarked as the Doctor destroyed the answering machine containing the archive of Satellite Five and bid Adam farewell.

Adam protested, saying that his head could open now, which caused John and Sherlock to burst out laughing in shock at the news. Everyone started snapping fingers then, opening and closing Adam's head as they kept laughing.

"Now you're a real comic book supervillain with a lame-ass superpower." Sherlock remarked, grinning.

"It's not funny!" Adam cried. "What am I going to do about this?"

"It's your own fault. On your own head be it then." John said, laughing.

"I only take the best. I've got Rose, Sherlock, and John here." The Doctor remarked. "Who else do I need?" He went into the TARDIS, smiling, and the others smiled too as they followed after him, leaving Adam behind.

"Ding-dong, Adam the warlock is dead." Sherlock joked and sighed to himself as the TARDIS dematerialized and went off again through the time vortex. "Although I might actually miss making fun of Anderson or Adam or whatever the hell his name is."

"Sherlock, please shut up." John said, grabbing Sherlock's hand and dragging him off to their room.

Sometime later, Sherlock left his room to find a bathroom, wishing the TARDIS would leave it closer to the bedroom, when he came across Rose reading in the library. "Oh, hello, Rose." Sherlock said, glancing around. "Do you happen to know where—is something wrong?" He asked her, noticing that she appeared to be crying.

Rose wiped at her eyes and sighed. "I'm just…I'm not sure anymore. I want to ask the Doctor for his help to see my father before he died, but now I am afraid."

"Afraid of what?" Sherlock asked, approaching her. "Are you afraid of how the Doctor is going to react?"

Rose nodded. "I've been keeping it such a secret from him for a while now, hoping that I might get the chance to ask for his help if it is possible. But then something comes up and we get distracted with these aliens and everything exploding or threatening to kill us so then I never get the chance to ask. But now with Adam, the Doctor tossed him right out the door as soon as he put one foot out of line."

"Well, he did deserve it, I suppose." Sherlock remarked. "He was using time travel for his advantage…which I see is similar to your case."

Rose nodded again, looking up at Sherlock. "Adam nearly destroyed the past or history or something by sending all of that information back home."

"But he also betrayed us to the Jagrafess and the Editor in a vulnerable moment by allowing them to access his mind in their system. Don't forget that." Sherlock said. "You wouldn't have done a thing like that. So it wasn't just because of time travel shenanigans that Adam got into trouble for."

"He was tempted, just like I have been tempted, to use such a magnificent thing as time travel to take us anywhere or anywhen in time and space and do anything with it." Rose gasped. "To see my father alive is what I hope for, yes, but most of all I want to save him somehow."

"Oh." Sherlock said, lowering his head. "I don't know if the Doctor…if the Doctor can allow for or let such a change happen."

"You see? There you go." Rose said, wiping away at her eyes. "The Doctor can't do anything right. He may be a Time Lord with a great, big, marvelous time-travel machine, but he still can't do anything for me." Rose shook her head. "I don't know if it's worth it anymore."

"You're thinking about leaving?" Sherlock asked.

"Maybe." Rose said, lowering her head. "I love being here, I do, and traveling, but I can't stay here forever if I at least don't try to save or see my father."

He's going to be devastated, Sherlock realized. The Doctor would be heartbroken if Rose asked to leave and maybe then he would kick out Sherlock and John as well. The Doctor might like him and John well enough that they were becoming friends, but without Rose, the Doctor might lose hope and become depressed and angry enough that he despised them. Damn the Time War and the Daleks for ruining the Doctor.

Sherlock certainly didn't want to leave yet. He loved traveling on the TARDIS. It was some of the most fun, excitement, and adventure he ever had. He couldn't get enough of it and John probably enjoyed it just as much as well, despite all of the trouble and danger they got into. That was part of the fun factor, and it certainly led to passionate sex afterwards for John and Sherlock. The only way that he and John could stay on the TARDIS was for Rose to stay on there as well. He had to get Rose to stay.

"You should at least try." Sherlock said, eyes blazing as he stared up at Rose. "Damn the consequences. Ask the Doctor for his help. Maybe he'll say no or maybe he'll say yes. But you should at least try."

"You really think so?" Rose asked, encouraged.

"The worst he can do is throw you out like he did to Adam, and you're already thinking about leaving." Sherlock said, though he wished it didn't come to that. "So why not at least try?"

Rose nodded. "You're right, it's the least I can do. Thank you, Sherlock."

"You're welcome." Sherlock grinned. "How soon are you going to ask him, though? Not today, right?"

"No, not today." Rose sighed. "Tomorrow or the next."

It actually took a little over two weeks. They did go to a forest planet, as the Doctor had promised, although they were chased around a bit and got lost and separated from one another, nearly drowned in quicksand. Then on another planet, they had to deal with a megalomaniac computer, which really just caused the Doctor to laugh as it had been done before. Neither Sherlock nor Rose said anything in all of this time, both of them still waiting for Rose to get up the nerve and seize the chance to ask.

Then there were some clockwork knights, video game aliens, and they got stuck in prison in the Justicia System for a while, but eventually they escaped. And finally, Rose approached the Doctor and told him about her father, how he lived, and how he died. John gasped as he listened, shocked by such a story that had so affected Rose when he might have never known or guessed that had happened to her and her family.

John really was the sentimental sort, Sherlock thought to himself, always taken in by heartbreaking, dramatic, romantic stories, and sighed. Meanwhile Sherlock watched the Doctor and Rose, hearing the emotion in Rose's voice and seeing the Doctor's concerned expression as he worried over her. When the Doctor remarked, "Where's this come from, all of a sudden?", Sherlock wondered if the Doctor might already know or suspect that this was Rose's ulterior motive for traveling with him all along.

Sherlock had helped the Doctor realize that Rose wanted to travel through time as well as space, but it might not have been obvious why then and the Doctor might have forgotten about it, all of this time later. But even though Rose tried to shrug off her request like it was nothing, compared to preserving the laws of time travel, said with some seething resentment, the Doctor boasted that he could do anything. But that was just because he wanted to make her feel better and prove that he was a real Time Lord.

"You can't do everything, Doctor." Sherlock murmured to himself.

He rolled his eyes and wished the Doctor would leave well enough alone, not try to make a big deal out of this and show off to her and John as well. Rose might actually start to believe that the Doctor was telling her the truth. John was taken in by the Doctor's boast or slightly startled by it as well, not expecting that to happen. Yet it was all Sherlock had expected when he knew the Doctor did not want to disappoint his biggest fan, the one who admired him above all else and the one that he admired and maybe even loved in turn.

"Are you sure?" The Doctor asked, eying Sherlock as Rose stared at them.

"Positive." Sherlock said.

"Watch me then." The Doctor said, like it was a challenge he accepted. Even John felt uneasy about this exchange.

Like a genie, the Doctor sprang up and granted Rose's wish, but it should not be so easy, magic never was. Sherlock did fear what might happen in this instance when Rose's heart was broken or if her real wish was granted.

And so they went and witnessed Rose's mum Jackie getting married to Pete Tyler. It wasn't a perfect ceremony by any stretch of the imagination. Pete stumbled over the words, yet Jackie accepted him and his vow as being good enough. Sherlock suspected that Jackie was used to settling for everything in her life, that she craved love and attention like everyone else, and got it however she could. Pete Tyler was her chance at a better life, or so she thought then.

However, Sherlock guessed that they were pressured into marriage, possibly because Jackie was already pregnant with Rose, or maybe it was a fool-hardy, spur of the moment type of thing. Even when she was younger, Jackie didn't seem like the type to settle down and this Pete fellow was a bit of a mess.

Rose was somewhat dumbfounded and in awe of the ceremony, although a growing sense of unease and dismay covered her face as she expected her father to be taller, different somehow from who he truly was. And even Rose noticed the ceremony wasn't exactly perfect; maybe she had expected a more glamorous, loving affair, full of flowers and deeply heartfelt vows of passion, meaning, and feeling. But real life wasn't exactly like that, not all of the time.

The Doctor watched, somewhat intrigued and skeptical at the same time. Perhaps he saw all of the flaws that Sherlock might have noticed, yet he was also truly interested in this ceremony when it was so important to Rose. Pete and Jackie Tyler, two people whom he might have never known or met if it wasn't for her, and here they were on their wedding day, exactly a couple of years, give or take, before one of them died.

And as he watched, he understood a little bit more about who Pete was, who Jackie was, and who Rose was in turn. For a moment, he thought that it truly was brilliant, fantastic, and sad at the same time. How truly fleeting and precious life was, wherever one went across all of time and space. He understood that now more than ever before, yet he still had to be reminded of that as well.

Rose might have glamorized and lionized her father after the stories her mother had told her about her brave, wonderful father who had died in such a tragic fashion. Pete might have been built up in Rose's head as the perfect hero who could do no wrong, but in reality, he was just an ordinary man. Just a bloke, really, not perfect in any sense of the word, who made a mistake and fell in love, or at least lost his heart for a while, to a woman named Jackie and had a child named Rose with her. Truly fantastic.

John sniffled, feeling a little overwhelmed in spite of himself, as he saw Jackie as a younger woman, full of hope and meaning, and Pete Tyler as a rather dashing, if clumsy sort of fellow. How happy they must have been then, before all of their hopes and dreams were dashed. John tearfully sighed and glanced over at Sherlock, stone-faced as usual. He sighed to himself as he wished for a moment that Sherlock was different, just a little bit more emotional than he was now, and more keen to express his emotions in an honest, open manner, like a normal human being.

Someday he and Sherlock might get married, in a grander, happier ceremony than this one, of course, full of all their friends, family, and colleagues. Maybe then Sherlock might smile and show the world his more passionate, loving side, the one John had seen and loved in their more private, intimate moments when Sherlock wasn't afraid of letting go of his mask and exposing the more vulnerable, emotional side of himself.

However, Sherlock always kept himself tightly wound up and guarded in public, not letting others seen within. Even though traveling with the Doctor, Rose, and John had helped Sherlock loosen up and expose different parts of himself that he had not let others see, it still wasn't the same. Eventually, Sherlock reverted back to his old ways of dealing with his feelings and hiding everything. John just wished Sherlock was a little bit different.

Then after the ceremony and reception, watching Jackie and Pete dance at the end, they returned to the TARDIS, believing that would be all. Sherlock had been getting a little bored, but he never said anything. However, Rose told them it wasn't enough, that she wanted to be there by her father's side on the day he died. John, Sherlock, and the Doctor looked at her, somewhat aghast that she would take it so far, but the Doctor acquiesced to her request.

"We can't do this." Sherlock hissed, shaking his head and rubbing his hands through his hair as Rose, the Doctor, and John all turned to him. "It's impossible. We can't do it."

John sighed. "Sherlock, please shut up. We are doing this. It's the only way." Sherlock stared at him, aghast, but John did not want Sherlock getting into trouble with the others going through with this.

John sort of understood Rose's feelings on the matter, that sometimes family members of a dying patient wanted nothing more than to be by their loved ones' side and comfort them in their final moments. Still he wondered how Rose would be able to handle it, how strange it must be for her to approach her father's final moments, knowing full well what would happen to him, yet force herself to face it when she barely knew her father beyond the stories her mother told her and how she felt about him.

You saw them getting married, isn't that enough? Sherlock wanted to ask. Do you really want to see him die, or do you want to save him? And how can you give in like that, Doctor? Just because you don't want to break her heart and lose her? Maybe she was already lost, Sherlock thought to himself.

He, John, the Doctor and Rose stood around the console, just staring at each other and the pulsating column as they traveled onward to that fateful day, November 7th, 1987, an ordinary day that had proved fateful for at least one man. Yet Sherlock thought to himself, every ordinary day would prove at least eventful if not fateful for any person on the planet. Sherlock knew as well as anyone here that everyone died and every day, hundreds of people did die.

So why were they all so afraid and frozen as they stood there around that console after they had landed, unwilling to walk out that door and see what awaited them? Rose finally did make the first move, slowly approaching the door and stepping outside, grimly expecting it to be a gloomy day. Yet as they all followed her out, they saw that it was a bright autumn day, rather ordinary indeed. Even Sherlock had been taken in for a moment by such grim, potent expectations.

And so they went on, past a wall full of posters, feeling blank and empty with a vague notion of doom, gloom, and fear, to the street Pete Tyler had died on, a rather ordinary thoroughfare. They grouped together on the side of the road, a short distance away from where Pete Tyler would drive up, a bit awkward and forlorn as they waited. Sherlock grimaced and glanced behind him, thinking he had caught sight of something funny and familiar to him for a moment.

But then he shook his head and looked forward again, thinking that it was nothing but a trick of the light and his own disturbed feelings on the matter at hand. Even Sherlock felt affected as he realized, at last, that he had gotten his wish as well; he would finally get to see a crime being committed, a murder. Witness the death of the victim and how the murderer had gone about it, although it was not quite the same as Sherlock had imagined it to be, especially when a member of the victim's family would be here as well, watching.

"What if we shout or scream?" John suddenly asked, nervous. "Try to draw Pete's attention to the car coming at him? Maybe-"

"No." The Doctor shook his head. "That won't work. It can't work."

The Doctor gripped Rose's hand as Pete, not really minding his business, grabbed the vase and got out of his car. Sherlock and John held on to each other as well. And the other car sped round the corner and practically accelerated, right into Pete Tyler, though the other driver swerved and covered his face as he accidentally hit Pete, who dropped and shattered his vase as he fell. John looked away, not really wanting to see this, and Sherlock grimaced as well. It was not quite what he expected it to be.

Pete Tyler, Sherlock would always think of him that way, lied in the road, broken and shattered, twitching in obvious pain as his body started to shut down. "Go to him, quick." The Doctor said to Rose and Sherlock's eyes widened. How could the Doctor expect Rose to react to that? The shock and trauma of the situation was too much for her, she was frozen stiff.

And of course when Pete stopped twitching, basically dying then, Rose turned and ran away, unable to look anymore and the others followed her. They sat there, backs against the wall and listened to the ambulance come pick up the remains. Then Rose pleaded to try again.

"You can't allow her to do this." Sherlock said as they went back to the TARDIS to travel back in time a few minutes and try again.

"What choice do I have?" The Doctor hissed at Sherlock, frowning. "I have to let her try."

And so they returned, hiding behind the wall, and watched their past selves gathering at the side of the road, awkward and forlorn. "Is that what I look like from behind?" John asked, rather unnerved by this whole experience.

"Please, John, not now." Sherlock said and ducked back as his past self turned around and scanned his surroundings, before turning back to wait for Pete. "I really did see myself." Sherlock said, stunned.

"I sound weird." John said, hearing himself speaking about crying out, and Sherlock stifled a laugh as the Doctor rolled his eyes.

"I can't stand it anymore." Rose said and darted out before they could stop her. She ran past their past selves, staring at her in horror as past Sherlock tried to stop her. But she reached out and shoved her father out of the way, and everything changed.


	20. Don't Fear the Reaper

So I got into the mood to write a lot in this chapter...Father's Day, man. I felt like I wanted to address some things that happened in this episode or might be related to it. Don't fear the reaper.

* * *

Sherlock and John gaped, both of them lurching forward as if they might stop Rose when she ran out past their past selves, which was weird enough already, and pushed aside her father before a car could run over him. In that instance, before their eyes, their past selves all vanished with a sickening shimmer, like they never even existed.

The car and driver that had run over Pete Tyler, or should have run over him, also vanished like it didn't even exist. It left Rose and Pete behind, getting up from where they had fallen in the middle of an empty suburban street, both of them alive and well when one of them should be dead.

"This can't be a good sign." Sherlock murmured. Something was definitely wrong or off here, he could feel it, smell it in the air.

"What just happened?" John asked, turning to the Doctor and Sherlock. "Did you see that? I mean, we're gone, and that car and driver are gone. This shouldn't be happening. How are we still here?"

"You're right about that." The Doctor grimaced. "It shouldn't have happened. It couldn't happen, but it did, and now we're going to have to pay for that."

"Pay? That doesn't sound right, how can we pay for anything like this?" John shook his head.

Sherlock turned to the Doctor and asked, "How bad is it going to get?"

"As bad as you can possibly imagine at this point." The Doctor murmured. "I think this is one of the worst time travel paradoxes I've ever been caught in. And without any more Time Lords around to fix this, some of the universe's measures for fixing these types of time travel paradoxes are not good for us."

"Seriously, the universe has ways of fixing things like this?" John asked.

"You would be surprised." The Doctor remarked.

"All because of one man who didn't die." John murmured.

Sherlock grimaced as Rose stared at her father, marveling at what she had done, while Pete, unmindful of what had happened and that he had nearly died, grumbled about the car that nearly ran over him. She was smiling too much, and he was just trying to shrug it off like it was nothing. He was a young, foolish man dressed in ridiculous clothes, with absolutely no fashion sense, even for the 1980s, which might have been one of the worst-dressed eras in recent memory.

And Pete was still pretty young, in his 20s by the look of him, not much older than his daughter was now. It was strange to think about, especially that glimpse they had of Jackie at her wedding, about the same age as her daughter now, too. How time flew by and people changed, or didn't, seemingly frozen in one moment of time, yet different from all of these other moments future and past.

Sherlock heard a screech and looked up, catching a glimpse of leathery wings vanishing. "What was that?" He asked, nervous.

"What? What's wrong?" John asked, looking up as well.

"I thought I saw-heard-never mind." Sherlock said, looking back down and hitching up his collar, nervous as he felt a cold breeze blowing. "Just the wind. Or maybe a hawk."

"Are you scared?" The Doctor asked, staring at Sherlock in surprise.

"I'm terrified, surprisingly enough." Sherlock admitted as he, John, and the Doctor approached Rose and Pete. "Are you as blind as a bat, sir?" Sherlock asked Pete, acting as normal as possible to cover his unease.

"I'm sorry, what did you say?" Pete asked, staring at Sherlock.

"Glasses or contacts, you need them." Sherlock said, ignoring John's sidelong, worried glance at him. "You must have very poor visual depth perception to not notice how close that car was to hitting you until it came barreling right into you."

"Sherlock, please leave him alone." Rose hissed. "He just-he nearly-"

"I don't need glasses or contacts. I can see just fine on my own." Pete glared at them. "What are all of you blokes doing here? Are you some kind of gang?"

"They're my friends," Rose said, introducing them.

"A gang?" Sherlock laughed. "Do we look much like a gang to you, especially with a couple of older gentlemen amongst our group?"

"I hope you're not referring to me." John muttered.

"It's all right, John. Personally I find you quite dignified and I enjoy that." Sherlock remarked, causing John to roll his eyes.

The Doctor grinned. "Personally, I take it as some kind of compliment. It takes years to develop dignity."

Pete nervously glanced at them all, a bit intimidated to be surrounded by so many strange blokes, but finally he turned to Rose and said, "Well, if you vouch for them, I guess they're all right. Come up to my flat, I guess you all deserve a round of drinks."

"Thank you very much, it would be our pleasure." John said, cozying up to Pete now as they headed back to the flat.

"Oh, it's always your pleasure whenever drinks are offered." Sherlock grumbled.

Pete frowned, studying them. "Say, how are all of you related?"

"Work mates, I guess you can say." Rose added.

"Oh, that's fine then, I suppose." Pete murmured, still uncertain as they headed back up to the same flat Jackie and Rose lived in so many years later.

The others looked around, finding the place eerily familiar yet dissimilar to what it looked like years later. Rose recognized bits and pieces of furniture and items scattered about the flat, newer and fresher than what she was used to. But other pieces looked oddly out of place or unfamiliar to her with the walls painted a different, fresher color. They were gone long before she could remember them.

"She never left." Sherlock murmured to Rose, glancing around the place out of Pete's earshot. "Your mother Jackie and you stayed here for all of these years."

"Never got the chance to leave, I suppose." Rose sighed. "It's different, yet it hardly changed. Just got more worn out and older over the years, I suppose."

Pete jabbered to the Doctor and John about windowsill compartments. "Idiotic, moronic, amateurish, sophomoric, bachelor type of idea." Sherlock muttered until Rose jabbed at him.

"Shut up, I think it's brilliant." Rose remarked, smiling at her father before he left to get some drinks.

Rose marveled over his junk, third-place trophies, unsold tonic drinks, and pie-in-the-sky plans for solar power while the Doctor continued to glare at her. Sherlock and John both shifted, sensing the tension in the air, but not wanting to be part of it. They both knew Rose had done something wrong, yet they couldn't fault her for what she had done in saving her father. It was one of the most natural things for anyone to do, but in the most unnatural way possible. Sherlock, meanwhile, continued to analyze everything, thinking Pete Tyler never won a prize for anything and Jackie Tyler must have drunk a lot.

"Time travel." The Doctor said, looking up at Rose and suddenly turning to Sherlock. "You knew that's what she wanted, all along."

"What?" Sherlock said, staring at the Doctor. "No. I did deduce that, yes, she wanted to travel in time as well as space, but I didn't know why until she…told me." Sherlock admitted, lowering his head.

"What's so wrong here?" Rose asked, rising up to glare at the Doctor and the others. "What can be so wrong about me saving my father?"

The Doctor and Rose argued as John gaped at Sherlock as well. "You mean she told you all about this?" John asked. "When did she tell you?"

"She told me after Charles Dickens and Cardiff." Sherlock said. "Gwyneth mentioned Rose was thinking about her father, and I asked, all right?"

"You knew all of this time and you didn't tell us?" John asked. "That's a hell of a secret to be keeping between the two of you."

"It wasn't that big of a secret." Sherlock shook his head. "It was a personal matter for Rose and I cautioned her not to pursue it!"

"But then you told me to go ahead and ask the Doctor for his help after I threatened to leave." Rose suddenly lashed out at Sherlock, causing him and everyone else to freeze.

"You threatened to leave?" The Doctor asked, appalled that Rose might have done that.

Rose grimaced. "I'm sorry, but I got upset and I was uncertain about what I should do."

"How could you have said such a thing to Rose?" John asked Sherlock.

"Well, I panicked. She was going to leave, and then neither you nor I could travel with the Doctor after that." Sherlock said. "He wouldn't want us around then."

The Doctor sighed and shook his head. "You're certainly not making things better for yourself, Sherlock. You great big stupid apes, always looking out and thinking of only yourselves."

"Why must you blame me?" Rose shook her head, taking the Doctor's blame personally. "Everyone always blames me for doing something wrong. I can't help what I did. It was what any decent person would have done, given the circumstances. What can be so wrong about this?"

"It's the truth." Sherlock told the Doctor, John, and Rose. "I didn't think he would give in to Rose's request and I thought she might have still stayed if he let her down gently." Sherlock said, gesturing to the Doctor. "But I should have known better. He always loves showing off to Rose and proving that he can do anything! He wanted to be magnanimous, not thinking of the consequences of his actions or the bad impression he leaves!"

"So this is my fault?" The Doctor gaped at Sherlock.

"Well, you shouldn't have put Rose into this position!" Sherlock cried, staring at the Doctor. "She couldn't handle it. She was tempted when you gave her the chance and then when she experienced her father's death, you gave her another chance to change it! No one, especially someone like Rose, could handle such a massive trauma and tragedy. She has grown up her whole life thinking about her father and what he must have been like. Dreaming, wishing, that she might somehow bring him back and so she did."

"It's true." Rose nodded, realizing it as well. "My whole life, I wanted to see him and tell him I love him. That mum misses him and everything is all right, even though it's not, because he isn't there." Rose buried her face in her hands.

"It was extremely short-sighted and callous of you, in some way, to expect her to handle such an event." Sherlock told the Doctor.

"She's faced death before." The Doctor hollowly said, a haunted, grim look in his eyes. "Traveling with me, she's seen death and she's faced the consequences of our actions."

"But this is personal to me." Rose said. "This is my father."

"Every death in the universe is personal to someone out there, even just the one person who is dying." The Doctor harshly said, shaking his head. "I should have known none of you can handle this. Rose, give me your key. You too, Sherlock. Now."

Sherlock and Rose protested as the Doctor snatched away their keys, leaving John standing there, gaping at the others, feeling left out and ignored for the moment until the Doctor, storming out the door, shouted, "Come on, Watson! We're going!"

"What? Wait a minute!" John shook his head, feeling like he had fallen into a black hole.

Rose turned to John and gaped at him. "Why do you get to go with him instead of-"

"No, Rose, this is good." Sherlock said, turning to John. "Look, the Doctor still trusts you, John. He sees you as a fellow soldier. All you've got to do is talk him down and stop him from leaving here without us. He probably won't go anyway, he still needs us, but I want you to follow after him, just in case."

John sighed and said, "All right, Sherlock, Rose, I'll try my best to do that. I don't know quite how, but I've had enough therapy to know some basic techniques. Just don't cause any more trouble, you two, all right? Love you, Sherl." John said, hugging and kissing Sherlock before he left, racing after the Doctor.

Sherlock, somewhat in shock at the nickname, said, "Love you, too, John," to empty air.

Rose sighed and sank down on the couch, overwhelmed by everything that had just happened as her father poked his head back into the living room, nervous as he said, "Is everything all right in here?"

"How much did you overhear?" Sherlock asked, turning to Pete Tyler.

Pete hesitated. "Well, um, I didn't hear exactly everything, and I couldn't understand half of it. I blocked it out after a while. I don't like it when lovers quarrel, especially blokes."

"Good man." Sherlock murmured, still distracted and stand-offish as he worried once more about what the Doctor might do that he didn't pay much attention to Pete. He retreated into his mind palace.

The Time Lord was predictable and unpredictable in many ways. Yes, he needed Rose, and to a lesser extent Sherlock and John. But he was the type to act irrationally and impulsively, too, despite his wide range of knowledge and 'dignity' from centuries of life. And this Doctor might be worse than some of the others Sherlock had heard and read about, with everything he knew about him so far.

With all of the traveling that he did, the Doctor might come and go, depending on his inclination or the weather. And he might stay and linger awhile somewhere or somewhen, despite or maybe because of the dangerous, treacherous situation that he was in. It was difficult to gauge when the Doctor might turn and flee or when he might take a stance and stay. Usually if one of his companions were in danger, the Doctor might stay, according to the reports Sherlock read, or if he was forced to deal with a situation because of external, outside factors.

But right now, the Doctor was worse than usual, overreacting because Rose had disobeyed the laws of time travel and gone against him, maybe taking advantage of his leniency towards her. Although she may have done something that could cause terrible consequences, the reason why Rose had done this was to save her father. And Sherlock couldn't help wondering if the Doctor actually wished that he might have been able to do the same thing to save Gallifrey, his family, and the rest of the Time Lords. Maybe that was why the Doctor was taking it so badly.

Sherlock hoped John would be able to handle it, and that he and the Doctor would return as soon as possible with the Doctor accepting the situation as best he could. However, they did not return and he wondered what was taking them so long to come back here. He feared for a moment that he might have misjudged the situation and Sherlock might have lost both John and the Doctor. But he shook off that fear, thinking it was best to assume it would take them awhile.

Rose was cleaning up, dealing with her own fears and worries with some house maintenance when she still considered this place her home and sanctuary. Pete caught her in the act and Sherlock studied them for a moment. She was still so young compared to Pete, despite there not being much of an age gap between them at this point, and Pete acted awkwardly around her, perhaps not quite sure what to make of her.

He was half intrigued and attracted to her, apparently, and Rose repelled his advances. "All right, okay, I just thought…never mind." Pete said, looking down. "Anyway, I'm heading to the church. You two want to come with me?"

Rose was excited enough about going, but Sherlock was somewhat annoyed that they were leaving here. "What about the Doctor and John?" He asked. "They should be back shortly."

Pete shrugged and said, "Well, it might take them a bit if they're going to snog or whatever the hell-"

"No." Sherlock said, confronting Pete as Rose gasped. "John is not like that, at least with the Doctor. They should be back here shortly once the Doctor has calmed down."

Pete sighed. "Look, I'm sorry about that, but I'm sure they know we're going to the wedding. It's going to start in just a half hour. I'm sure they know where the church is. And they can't have gotten far. They might even be heading there now."

"Come on, Sherlock, can't we go?" Rose asked.

Sherlock grimaced. "All right, fine, I'm willing to go."

"Are you two going to dress up?" Pete asked, looking around at them.

"This is the best you're going to get. Let's just go now and see if they're there." Sherlock said, leaving the flat with Pete and Rose following after him to Pete's car.

"Doctor! Wait up!" John cried, hurrying after him.

The Doctor sighed, slowing down his pace slightly for John to catch up with him. "Is your leg still acting up?" He asked.

"Not really. You have a really long stride, just like Sherlock." John commented, catching up with the Doctor. "You two are about the same height, have you ever noticed that?"

"No." The Doctor said, continuing on with John right alongside him.

John heard a screech and looked up, his eyes widening as he saw leathery wings vanishing. "Doctor, what sort of measures does the universe have for…eradicating time paradoxes?"

"Like I said before, some very nasty ones. Why?" The Doctor glanced up, studying the sky. "Did you see something?"

"Maybe. I'm not sure. It was like something out of a nightmare, with great, big leathery wings." John said.

The Doctor shuddered. "That doesn't sound very promising. Let's help it's not what I'm dreading."

John didn't think that sounded very good. But nevertheless, he had told Sherlock he would try to speak to the Doctor, and so he was committed to still doing that, no matter what they were facing. "Do you remember a couple of weeks ago when you and Sherlock both apologized for what happened during that whole Dalek fiasco?" John asked, staring at the Doctor.

The Doctor groaned, looking down from the sky. "No, I don't, not really." He lied.

"Now I might not have a mind palace like Sherlock's, but I distinctly remember that you apologized for getting carried away and overwhelmed by the situation." John said, now looking around himself. "And that we all were affected the same way by the Dalek. This is the exact same thing that's happening here."

"This is not the exact same thing." The Doctor said, grimacing. "This is the total and complete opposite. I am not in the wrong here, this is time-travel related. I am right about this."

"All right, you may be right about the time travel conundrum, but you weren't totally blameless." John said, turning back to the Doctor. "Like Sherlock said, you used your time travel expertise, knowing the potential problems and consequences that could arise, to show off to Rose and you didn't think about her feelings in the matter."

"I didn't think she would be so mad as to do a thing like that!" The Doctor cried, gesturing. "I thought she would be smarter, that she would think instead of feel all of the time!"

"Not everyone can be emotionless, unfeeling, thinking machines." John said. He gazed back up at the sky. "I could have sworn I saw a flash of something."

"Never mind that for now. Keep walking." The Doctor said, hurrying up with John trailing after him. "I should have known better." The Doctor hissed at him. "You're right about one thing, John. This is the exact same thing she and Sherlock did when they rejuvenated and freed the Dalek! They reacted without thinking, and because of that, people lost their lives! And that could be happening here and now."

"It's that dangerous?" John gaped at the Doctor.

"Yes indeed." The Doctor said, glaring at John.

"But that was by accident!" John cried. "They didn't know about that whole DNA manipulation thing! And Rose didn't know and she still doesn't know what the potential consequences might be here. I don't even know what we are dealing with here. You haven't told her anything about what's going on here. You keep her and the rest of us in the dark at times, and because of that, we don't know how to react in a given situation. You hardly share anything."

"Duck over here, beneath this tree." The Doctor insisted, pulling John off to the side. They waited a few moments as something flashed above their heads and the he said, "Okay, now go." They started moving again, quickly.

"Is the TARDIS going to be safe shelter for us?" John asked.

"Let's hope so." The Doctor said. "And what can I share? What should I share?" The Doctor said, turning to John. "It's impossible! I have a wealth, a planet's worth of information and memories locked away inside my head, 900 years' worth of everything I've ever learned and experienced on Gallifrey and traveling through time and space, not to mention the Time War. I can't share everything with everyone, not when it's too overwhelming for your ape brains and even overwhelming for me at times."

John stopped, staring at the Doctor. "You have a mind planet?"

"Exactly right, I have a mind planet, hundreds of times larger than Sherlock's mind palace." The Doctor remarked. "I have to dig through mountains of information and memories inside my brain to get at the knowledge I need. It's a wonder I recall anything at all."

"That might explain a few things." John remarked to himself, gazing up again on watch.

"Exactly." The Doctor said, nodding. "And at times, even with everything I've got in my head, I don't even know anything! How can I share information that I don't even know about to you and the others when I'm still trying to figure things out? It's impossible sometimes to share the things I know about or figured out when you all wouldn't even understand what it is I'm saying! I have to be selective with what I share, all right, to what's relevant and useful in any given situation."

"You could still try to tell us." John said, approaching the Doctor. "You could still try to share. Like what sort of monster it is that is hunting us right now. That's relevant."

"It's a Reaper, I think, or at least that's my nickname for it. The creature doesn't really have a name. And you won't understand sometimes. It's an entirely different level of understanding, far beyond human comprehension." The Doctor insisted.

"And so you keep your secrets to yourself and we never learn anything." John said, shaking his head. "Typical."

"Sherlock keeps you in the dark at times, doesn't he?" The Doctor asked John.

"Yes, and it frustrates me so much at times! I thought you would be better." John remarked.

"I will be better. Just give me time." The Doctor murmured. "Here's the TARDIS!" They rushed forward to the blue box, but when the Doctor got out his key and stuck it in the door, he gasped. "No." He pushed open the doors, revealing nothing. The entire TARDIS interior was gone, leaving nothing but the shell of the police call box.

"This is bad." John gasped, gazing up in search of the Reaper again.

"No, no, no, it's just a box!" The Doctor cried, scrambling about inside the box. "I'm stuck with a stupid, empty, wooden box! The TARDIS is gone."

"It's the paradox and the Reaper, isn't it?" John asked. "We're in trouble. We can't leave here and there's no safe shelter. What are we going to do?"

"Rose. Sherlock. Church." The Doctor said, running off back the way they came as John went after him.

"You've still got to work on your communication skills!" John shouted after him.

"It's getting chilly." Pete remarked as he, Rose, and Sherlock got in his car and drove off to the church.

"Might be more than just the weather." Sherlock said from where he sat in the backseat, glancing around as if he might see leathery wings again.

"Again, I'm sorry-" Pete started to say.

"Oh, stop it! No, this is something else." Sherlock said, annoyed with the man nonetheless. He was starting to suspect this chill might be unnatural, related to the time paradox.

Pete messed with the radio and smiled to himself. "Oh, I love this song. Blue Oyster Cult, Don't fear the reaper!" He cried, causing both Rose and Sherlock to sit up, aghast, as Pete Tyler sang, "'All our times have come/Here, but now they're gone/Seasons don't fear the reaper/Nor do the wind, the sun, or the rain (We can be like they are).'"

Pete turned his head to Rose and sang, "'Come on, baby (Don't fear the reaper)/Baby, take my hand (Don't fear the reaper)/We'll be able to fly (Don't fear the reaper)/Baby, I'm your man/La la la la la/La la la la la'."

"You don't know how ironic that song is." Sherlock said, not knowing the full irony until later.

Then the radio started acting up, playing songs from the future and Rose, checking her mobile for any messages from the Doctor or John, turned to Sherlock and whispered, "I'm getting some strange sort of message or interference on here. What about your mobile?"

Sherlock checked his phone and frowned as he heard the static voice saying, "'Watson, come here, I need you,'" thinking of his own lover in that moment. But much as he wished John could be here, he told Rose the message was the first phone conversation ever, a sign of some strange time interference.

Rose grimaced and said, "This is not good, is it?" Suddenly, her eyes widened as she looked out the rear window. "What is that?" She whispered.

Sherlock turned to look and Pete checked his rearview mirror so that all of them saw the car that had nearly run over Pete Tyler. Pete quickly turned a corner, looking away as Sherlock and Rose continued watching the other car rush past them and then vanish down the other street, not hitting them.

Sherlock and Rose silently sat back down and faced forward again, thinking as Pete said, "What's going on here? Is something wrong?"

Sherlock sighed. "Pete Tyler, you really don't want to know."

Pete shook his head. "Sherlock, Rose, I don't know you two or your boyfriends well. But I've got the feeling that ever since Rose here saved me from that car we just avoided, something has been wrong here. Am I right or am I wrong?"

"You're not far off." Sherlock said.

"Sherlock, please don't tell him." Rose said.

Sherlock opened his mouth, about to tell the truth, when suddenly he shouted, "Car!"

"Dad!" Rose cried.

Pete braked and swerved to avoid getting hit by the exact same car that had nearly run over him before. They scraped against the sidewalk in front of the church, with a bunch of people gathered outside, prepared to go inside for the wedding of Sarah Clarke and Stuart Hoskins.

"Is everyone okay? Sherlock, Rose?" Pete asked as they got out of the car.

"Glasses or contacts." Sherlock panted, glaring at Pete. "You definitely need them. Don't deny it!"

"All right, fine, but that was the same car, again!" Pete cried. "What is going on here?"

Pete and Rose got into a discussion of her calling him 'dad', and then Jackie Tyler strode up to them, carrying baby Rose. Even Sherlock found himself staring at Jackie, who was certainly younger yet not much different from her older self. And he was concerned about the possibility of what might happen with two Roses showing up together-again. This was a bleeding nightmare.

Jackie glared at them. "Who are you two? Where did you come from? You're not swingers, are you? Pete, I'm not going to stand for that."

Sherlock and Rose gaped at Jackie and then at each other, nearly gagging at that thought while Jackie and Pete argued over the girls that Pete had apparently been seeing. Rose shook her head, feeling even more depressed than before about what was happening with her parents and seeing her father for who he really was.

"Life is never perfect or what we imagine it to be." Sherlock murmured to himself, glancing at Rose. "And sometimes we should never meet our heroes, for they will turn out to be flawed, ordinary beings."

Rose sighed, gazing up at her parents as Pete apologized and tried to make amends with his wife. "I suppose you're right about that, but sometimes they are still good, aren't they? Even if they're not totally perfect, neither are they always so terrible, right?"

"I suppose you may be right about that." Sherlock said, studying Rose's parents. "Average people, nothing more or less, trying to make their way through life. Struggling to do so, but still managing to survive and live until the end."

Rose sighed and weakly smiled. "But they still loved each other, didn't they? Even with everything they both got wrong, they're still my parents and I don't want to lose that now."

Sherlock sighed and shook his head. "Rose-" He started to say, when a little boy ran down the sidewalk, screaming about monsters before he ran into the church. Sherlock stared at him, recognizing him as Mickey, when both he and Rose heard John and the Doctor shouting, running towards them, about getting inside the church.

Sherlock and Rose were frozen in shock for a moment as the Reaper appeared in the air above their heads. A great leathery, winged beast with a scythe-tail and red, blazing eyes at the top of its hooded head. Then it unfolded its wings to full length, revealing its belly of razor sharp teeth, screeching at them.

Rose screamed and Sherlock pushed her out of the way before the Reaper could eat her. Yet his mind was still panicking as more Reapers showed up and started attacking the priest and other wedding guests. Sherlock heeded John's and the Doctor's warnings, and he helped usher the other guests into the church as John and the Doctor soon joined them.

Once everyone that was still alive was inside, including Jackie, Pete, and baby Rose, the Doctor and John bolted the doors. Then the Doctor started issuing orders about securing all of the other doors. John, in full soldier mode now, was about to do just that when Sherlock stormed up to him, grabbed John, and kissed him as hard as he could in front of everyone inside the church.

"Oh my god!" Jackie cried in shock.

"Jackie, not now!" The Doctor shouted at her.

John gasped and giggled as he kissed Sherlock in turn and then said, "All right, let me go for a moment, I have work to do."

"Well, hurry up, John!" Sherlock said, letting him go do what had to be done, and then he turned around to face the others, cocking an eyebrow at them. "What are you looking at?" He asked.

The others glanced away and Sherlock shook his head as Rose confronted the Doctor about what was happening, asking if it was her fault. Pete, overhearing their conversation, glanced away at baby Rose, a vague thought already forming in his head about what was happening.

"Don't fear the Reaper my ass!" Sherlock muttered to himself and sighed.


	21. Paradox Love

**Well, finished Father's Day, but now I realize if Sherlock and Rose's time period are the present same time period, then for Rose to be 19 in 2014/2015 or some approximation thereof...1987 would definitely be too far in the past for her. It would be more like 1997 now, compared to the 2005 series! Oh, well. Times change, let's just call it another paradox here, Simpsons style.**

As John and the Doctor set off to secure all of the doors and windows in the church, Pete caught up with them. "Wait a minute!" Pete cried, facing the Doctor. "How did you know my wife's name?"

"We met before." The Doctor said.

"At your wedding." John added. "You might recognize us from there."

Pete shook his head. "No, the way she reacted, she didn't recognize you. And I don't think she would have been friends with you."

"Well, you are right about that." The Doctor grinned.

"Doctor, can you come look at something?" John said, staring out the window. Both the Doctor and Pete came to watch as the car that should have hit Pete appeared and then disappeared, over and over again. "Why is it doing that?" John whispered.

"It's nothing." The Doctor hissed.

"It showed up before. Sherlock and Rose saw it as well when we were driving here, but they wouldn't explain. It nearly hit us in front of the church." Pete said, staring at the vehicle as the other two stared at him, nervous about what he might figure out. Then Pete's eyes widened with a dawning realization. "Rose called me Dad. She called me Dad when we swerved and the car keys, I gave them to her."

"Don't jump to any conclusions." John cautioned. "It's probably nothing."

"Too late." Pete said, rushing out of the room as the Doctor and John groaned, watching the car go round and round again.

"Will that thing never stop?" John whispered.

"Maybe, if we can change things here." The Doctor said.

"Is that even possible with the reapers and the paradox and the missing TARDIS?" John asked.

"I know it'll be hard. But we can at least try for Rose's and for Pete's sake."

"He can live?" John asked.

The Doctor stared at John. "Of course he can. I don't want to break Rose's heart, and Pete is a decent enough ape. Rose and Sherlock were right earlier. I didn't think about Rose, how this was too personal to her. But her emotions do matter and Pete matters as well."

"Well, how are we going to stop this?" John asked.

"I can't stop the reapers from dissolving everything on my own without the TARDIS to fix things up, but maybe we'll find a way." The Doctor said. "The universe might try to destroy us, but Rose deserves a chance to get to know her father. Pete deserves a chance to live as well if we can give it to him."

John smiled. "You really do try to save everyone you can."

"On my good days, on my best days." The Doctor sighed. "Let's hope this is one of them, although I do have my doubts. Come on."

Rose and Sherlock were sitting in the choir section, waiting for the Doctor and John to come back as they observed all of the horrible clothes and hairstyles that everyone was wearing and laughing at them. Suddenly Pete approached and started asking Rose about why she blamed herself, and the car keys, and the way she called him 'dad'. Sherlock was gob-smacked as Pete Tyler, quite correctly but still stunningly, came to the conclusion that Rose was his baby daughter Rose all grown up into a young lady.

"How ever did you come to such a conclusion?" Sherlock managed to say, staring at them. Now he knew how Anderson, Donovan, and other people felt when he deduced something quite correctly without knowing how he figured out the clues. It was all there, true and plain as can be, and yet piecing everything together was a different story. It almost felt like cheating in some ways.

Pete shrugged. "Well, bits and pieces of it came together, I suppose. And you called me Pete Tyler when I don't even remember telling you my last name. You knew who I was, too, when I've never met you. Just like the Doctor knew who Jackie was without ever meeting her, before I mean, when he did meet her in the future. Gosh, this is confusing."

"You're telling me." Sherlock said, shaking his head. "I'm not used to someone else being the detective here."

"That's my dad. He's got a brilliant mind, doesn't he?" Rose grinned at Pete.

"I'm not going to get used to this." Pete said, shaking his head.

"Bet he doesn't have a mind palace." Sherlock muttered to himself.

Rose and Pete wandered off to a side hallway to talk, and without anything else to do, Sherlock followed after them to hear what they had to say. He was curious about how Rose was going to explain any of this, and if Pete might figure out anything on his own, like he did with Rose. Sherlock was antsy and nervous, though, as he wished John and the Doctor would hurry up and finish up so that they could get down to business, if there was anything they could do here.

As the Doctor and John finished up securing the place, the bride Sarah Clarke and the groom Stuart Hoskins came up to the Doctor, worried about what was going on and asking him to help them. The Doctor smiled and reassured them as best he could, ruminating that he couldn't live the sort of life they did, as John glanced around the church.

"You all right?" The Doctor asked John.

"Yes, though the others have sort of vanished." John remarked and sighed. "No Rose, Pete, or Sherlock."

"I'm sure they're around here somewhere. It's a big place. They've probably gone to talk about Rose to Pete. They wouldn't go outside." The Doctor said. "Even they are smart enough to avoid the reapers, though not smart enough to avoid paradoxes."

John glanced at the Doctor and said, "Do you ever regret it, though, traveling like you do across time and space without ever settling down anywhere? Even when you had a planet?"

The Doctor darkened. "Of course I do regret it, every now and again. Nine hundred years is a pretty long time to think, and there have been some black days when I wanted to give it all up and go back to my planet, if they would take me back, even in chains. It's even worse now, but I don't have a choice.

The Doctor faced John. "Sometimes you can't go back. Sometimes you can't give it up. Sometimes your heart or hearts melts with joys or burns with rage or grieves with sorrow, but the universe is large, spectacular, and all of time and space awaits you inside that big blue box. I never wanted to give it up and I couldn't stop traveling, even if I did want to."

John slowly nodded. "That's confusing and conflicting, I suppose, but I guess I understand."

"Tell me the secret to that someday." The Doctor said, crossing his arms. "Uh-oh, here comes Jackie with baby Rose." He remarked, looking up. "Why does she always scare me, even when she's young?"

"Jackie is a formidable lady." John remarked.

"I was talking about the baby." The Doctor added, causing John to laugh.

Pete marveled over who Rose became and time traveling as Sherlock rolled his eyes, but then Pete wanted to know about his future, if he was bald or still had hair. "Why are you so fixated on the hair aspect?" Sherlock asked, interrupting Pete so that Rose wouldn't have to talk. "You should ask if you've gotten glasses or contacts. That's what you should really worry about."

Pete frowned. "Have you met me before in the future? My eyesight is quite clear. I can see fine without those things."

"You, sir, are as blind as a bat and don't know what's right in front of your face." Sherlock insisted. "And no, I did not meet you before in the future. I heard about you, though."

"I told him about you, how wonderful you were." Rose remarked to Pete, glancing at Sherlock to warn him not to say anymore. "You were out of town, that's why you never met him face to face."

"Well, I know my own daughter. I can see her quite clearly, I recognized her even without glasses." Pete said, staring at Rose. "I knew who you were the first time I saw you, even if I didn't recognize you at first. My own daughter."

"And you're my dad." Rose grinned at him.

Pete smiled at her. "How lovely you are, a true Rose." She burst out crying then as Sherlock lowered his head. "What's wrong?" Pete asked them, dismayed.

"Please don't make this worse than it already is." Sherlock whispered to Pete before Mickey and then Jackie interrupted them in a typical fashion. "Hey, Mickey. Don't steal my laptop. I've got my eye on you." The detective remarked to the boy, who stared at him in confusion before running off again.

"Don't frighten him." Jackie said, glaring at the detective. "You big bully."

"That's my brother who will-oh, never mind. It hasn't even been invented yet. Leastways not any of the popular versions that will become my laptop." Sherlock remarked, frowning to himself. "I'm bored. Where's John?" He asked, getting up and leaving the hallway to return to the chapel.

"Strange bloke." Pete muttered to himself before turning back to Rose.

Sherlock glanced over at the Doctor lecturing baby Rose and said, "Some things never change." Then he spotted John and headed over to him. "John, I'm bored. It's been too long since we've talked. How are things with the Doctor and baby Rose?"

John laughed. "He's trying to get an early start, I suppose, but she's too young, can't understand him, and won't listen. Jackie trusted him with the baby, a real shocker there. I even held her once, for a moment, the strangest thing. He wants to save Pete, for Rose's sake and for the man's sake, but I don't know how he can. We saw the car outside the church going round and round again."

"You can't ever be too early." Sherlock sighed. "This isn't going to end well, I already know that. Nothing but tears no matter how hard we try."

"But we can still try. That's the best thing we can do." John whispered, glancing at Sherlock.

"Here comes grown-up Rose. This could be a volatile combination if the two Roses ever met, disastrous, even." Sherlock said as Rose approached the Doctor. "Another time travel paradox."

"I want to have a baby. Or at least I wish we could." John suddenly said as Sherlock stared at him in shock.

"Biologically speaking?" Sherlock asked, confused.

"No! Adoption, unless-never mind." John sighed. "I just thought, for a moment, maybe someday you and I can be fathers and get married in a church like this one. Maybe someday."

"That's a bit soon, is it not?" Sherlock asked. "I mean, how soon would you expect this to happen?"

"I'm not talking about getting married tomorrow or anything like that." John groaned. "I meant in a year or two, maybe, if we can work something out and stay together for that long, even with traveling with the Doctor."

"All right, I will consider that." Sherlock murmured.

"You really will?" John asked, staring at Sherlock in shock.

"I grant that it's a big step, not one to be taken lightly but with a certain amount of respect for what symbolism it holds." Sherlock said. "I don't agree entirely with what symbols might be represented, but yes, I will consider that proposition."

John smiled and laughed. "I can't believe we just-did we just propose to each other?"

"I wouldn't say that. I would consider such a proposal in future." Sherlock said.

"Oh, right, in a year or two." John nodded. "Probably for the best." He still giggled, however, and even Sherlock smirked.

A few feet away from them, the Doctor smiled and hugged Rose, causing Sherlock and John to clap. "Yay! Did you two make up?" Sherlock asked.

"Shut up." Rose said, and suddenly remarked on the warmness emanating from the TARDIS key the Doctor was wearing.

Sherlock and John quickly checked their keys, but were disappointed to discover that only the Doctor's key had this feature. Still, it meant the TARDIS still existed somewhere outside of this paradox and so the Doctor quickly set to work, using the batteries from their mobile phones and one of the 1987 models to recharge the key and bring back his ship. He warned them and everyone else inside the church not to touch the key, hovering in mid-air where the ship's lock would form, or else they might get zapped by its power source.

"I'm sorry for not telling you-" Sherlock started to tell the Doctor when the Time Lord returned.

"Forget about it. And I'm sorry for snapping at you as well." The Doctor said. "I was just having a difficult time."

Sherlock sighed. "Well, at this rate, things should be back to normal soon, although…how different do you think it will be?" Sherlock asked John and the others. "With everything changed?"

Rose shrugged. "Don't know. But maybe it'll work itself out, right? I mean, time is adjustable and flexible enough to shift things around, yeah?"

The Doctor slowly nodded. "You're right about that. One way or another, things will change, but maybe they'll stay the same as well."

"Even with Rose traveling with us?" John asked.

The Doctor didn't answer, however, and they were silent for a moment, wondering if Pete was still alive at the end of all this, would Rose's past be changed drastically enough that she would never travel with the Doctor? Never meet Sherlock and John, and get them involved as well in this time-traveling adventure? Would any of them be able to travel with the Doctor, once the paradox was resolved to a state of normalcy?

"Time travel certainly is complicated, but whatever else happens, I'm glad to have experienced it in some regard." Sherlock remarked and the others nodded, prepared for the possibility of never having met and gotten to know one another in such a way. Rose got up and moved to another part of the room for a bit.

Pete approached Rose soon after and asked her once more what his life had been like with Rose and Jackie, if he had been a good father and husband. Rose lied to him as best she could, but even Pete could tell she wasn't telling him the truth. After Rose walked back towards the Doctor, Sherlock watched, curious as the dawning realization appeared in Pete's eyes that he literally was a dead man.

Pete glared up at Sherlock, aware of his gaze, and said, "That's why you never met me before in the future."

"That's right, Pete." Sherlock nodded. "It changed today."

"You're right, Sherlock, I definitely need glasses." Pete muttered. "I should have seen it before."

Sherlock softened. "Admittedly it is a strange thing to discover."

"Well, today has definitely been the strangest day I've ever known, and the strangest I will ever know at this rate." Pete sighed. "I can't believe it. I always hoped I would live to see so many amazing things, but to die that way on this day, I can't believe it. What will I never know or get to see or do? What will I miss?"

"Pete Tyler, don't regret what you will miss." Sherlock said. "Regret only what remains. I believe that is for the best."

"Thanks." Pete muttered, not cheered up any as he left and Sherlock followed after him.

The TARDIS was becoming more solid, though transparent still, and everyone tensely sat waiting for it, though Jackie kept glaring back at them, suspicious. The Doctor tried to reassure Rose again when Pete interrupted, having figured out the truth of what happened, that he should have died back there. Sherlock was surprised to hear Pete taking responsibility for what happened as he was Rose's dad, the same sort of illogical leap that Pete had taken before.

Perhaps it was the nature of a time travel paradox that strange things happened and strange leaps of faith could be taken, adding to the surrealness, dreamlike existence of this in-between paradoxical world. But then Jackie turned up and Pete failed to convince her that Rose was their baby. Suddenly, before anyone could stop it from happening, Rose was holding her baby self. Oh bollocks, Sherlock realized, things were about to really go downhill.

Suddenly a reaper materialized inside the church, still folded in on itself, yet still menacing with its bright red eyes glowing, glaring at them as if it could see the faults within their souls. Everyone started screaming, the frightened wedding guests rising from their pews and running away from it, as Sherlock's heart pounded. Everything seemed dull, grey, and black as he rushed on down the aisle, urging John ahead of him, while the Doctor shouted at everybody to stand back behind him as he was the oldest living thing here.

"Is that enough to stop it?" Sherlock shouted at him, anger masking his fear.

"No." The Doctor whispered, and Sherlock could see the fear in the Time Lord's eyes, yet the acceptance as well as he faced the Reaper.

Its wings unfurled to reveal the gnawing, gnashing, grinding teeth in the pit of its belly as it launched itself forward and swallowed up the Time Lord whole. He was gone.

Rose, Sherlock, and John in particular stared, stunned and horrified at the empty spot that once contained the last living Time Lord, their friend and traveling companion, the Doctor. There was no hope left. The world seemed darker, colder, and more menacing now as the reaper hovered over everything, threatening to tear apart and destroy the last remnants of humanity and existence. Including John Watson and Rose Tyler. No, he wouldn't lose them, too.

Suddenly Sherlock's eyes narrowed in focus, losing perspective on everything around him, including the reaper, as he fixated only on the TARDIS materializing in front of him, and the key sticking out of its semi-transparent lock. He remembered what the Doctor said would happen to anyone who got close to the TARDIS.

"Good-bye, John." Sherlock said and dashed down the aisle before anyone could stop him. "Hey, Reaper!" Sherlock shouted, madly waving his arms to attract the creature's attention. "Look at me! I'm from the 21st century in 1987! Come and get me." He growled, standing before the TARDIS.

"No, Sherlock!" John shouted, but it was too late. The Reaper launched itself forward, Sherlock closing his eyes as the Reaper swallowed him whole. The creature touched the TARDIS key at the same time and got caught in the materializing field, dissolving itself and the TARDIS at the same time. The key fell.

"No, no, no, Sherlock." John said, dissolving into tears as he sank down onto one of the seats, his head in his hands. He was gone, both Sherlock and the Doctor were gone. John was alone, even with Rose.

Rose crept forward, Pete following her, to pick up the cold TARDIS key off of the ground. Then Rose fell apart as well, blaming herself for everything that happened and crying. Despite what comfort Pete tried to give, they were separate and alone. Pete left them soon after.

John didn't say anything to him or anyone, he couldn't. Though he might have wondered what Pete went to see, he didn't think about that car still going round and round outside. All he could think about was Sherlock in that moment, gone forever. His mind just couldn't wrap around that concept. Gone, dissolved, eaten by a Reaper, what a ghastly concept. All because he tried to save them. Sherlock really was a hero in the end, just like the Doctor.

John wept again as Rose silently mourned the loss of her friends while Pete returned and spoke briefly to the bride Sarah and the groom Stuart before he approached Rose. Then Pete told her what was going on, the truth about the car and his death, what he had suspected all along.

"I'm never going to grow old, never going to get glasses-" Pete choked up and whispered, "Don't regret what might have been, regret what remains."

Pete looked so young, John realized, not that much older than Rose even as he tried to act like her brave father and protect his girl. Jackie came up to them and at last recognized Rose for who she was as Pete and Jackie kissed one last time.

John closed his eyes. Rose got her chance, he realized, to know who her father truly was in the end, a brave, good man. And Pete finally got the chance to live in the end and see what his life really was all about, his daughter and his wife, and the good that he had to offer them. John couldn't stop crying then, thinking about Sherlock and the Doctor as well.

And Rose got another chance to see what her family life might have been, yet John knew that Rose wished for another chance, another choice, another future. Just like John did. For a moment, John couldn't help wondering if there were parallel worlds somewhere out there, where things might have been different. Where the sorrows of this life might have been changed and made better. But he didn't know who to ask or how to find out, and he eventually forgot about that. A distant howl could be heard, stretching across universes.

Rose solemnly handed the vase, an urn now, to Pete and he thanked her for saving him one last time before he ran out of the church. John sat in his seat, closing his eyes as he wished that Pete didn't have to go as well.

They sacrificed themselves, the Doctor and Sherlock, all because Pete wouldn't have to die, but now what was the point? If Pete was gone, there was nothing left. Sherlock would not have stood for that. John tried to get up to stop Pete from leaving, from dying, but his heart wasn't in it now. What was the point?

Rose, however, followed after her father and saw him outside, frightened as he faced the reapers. But he avoided them as he saw the car coming his way and ran out right in front of it, a brave man to the last. "Good-bye." Rose whispered in reply to his unheard speech as the car hit him. All of the reapers vanished then as Rose closed her eyes.

"John?" Inside the church, he heard a voice, soft and quiet, but he didn't quite believe what he heard, saw, or felt as Sherlock wrapped his arms around him and hugged him tight. "It's me."

"You're dead." John whispered. "The reaper got you and the Doctor, too. You're dead."

"Not quite. Did Pete go outside?" Sherlock whispered.

"Yes, he did. He got-oh. Did that change everything, back to the way it was?" John whispered, looking at Sherlock closely now, drinking everything in.

Sherlock slowly nodded. "I think so. I'm alive. And the Doctor's over there." Sherlock pointed towards the church door. "The reapers are gone now as well."

John twisted his head round and saw that was true, with everyone else gathered just inside and outside the church doors as well. "Oh. That did change everything. Have they forgotten, do you suppose?"

Sherlock nodded. "I do believe so."

"What about you? What happened to you?" John nervously asked. "Do you remember?"

Sherlock shuddered. "I don't really want to talk about it. Nothing much that I can recall. One minute the reaper is coming at me, I'm standing there, closing my eyes-boom. Nothing until just now when I was standing over there, back where I was before I died, I suppose. Then I saw you crying."

John hiccupped and weakly smiled. "Don't think about it. I'm glad to see you again." He managed to say.

"Me, too," Sherlock said, hugging and kissing John again.

"Come on, boys." The Doctor said at the church door, turning around to face them. "We've got to go."

Sherlock and John quickly got up and rushed out of the church, both a little unsteady, but glad to leave that solemn, morbid façade aside. They joined the Doctor outside, nodding to each other, and walked down the steps towards Rose. She was sitting in the street, cradling her father, smiling weakly at him with tears in her eyes as he died.

At last, she looked up at the Doctor, John, and Sherlock and soon left behind her father's body for the past to reclaim him again. They joined hands and walked back to the TARDIS, thinking of everything that had happened and nothing at all. They dematerialized into the Time Vortex and then stopped as the Doctor just allowed the TARDIS to hover there in between no time and place while they quietly mourned and grieved for what had happened.

It took a while for Sherlock and the others to recover from what had happened. But as soon as he was able, and found a new battery for his mobile, Sherlock called his brother. "To what do I owe this pleasure, brother mine?" Mycroft asked. "You hardly ever call."

"I've been trying to contact you for a few weeks now." Sherlock managed to say, annoyed. "I had some trouble getting hold of you. Anthea said you were busy numerous times."

"Bit of a tight schedule, I'm afraid." Mycroft said. "I had some free time once or twice, but not for very long. Is something wrong?"

"Fear. I've experienced it." Sherlock said.

"Ah, I take it things have gone badly on your trips with the Doctor. You knew what you were getting into there, what the dangers were." Mycroft said.

"I know, but it's gotten progressively worse at times." Sherlock said. "I went to Utah, not long ago, and in an underground bunker, met a Dalek. It damn well nearly killed me and Rose, but it went haywire and stopped."

"Close call, but you survived." Mycroft said.

"I've had too many close calls in the past few weeks, including nearly freezing to death with John." Sherlock inhaled and then told him, "And then several hours ago I actually did die. Literally died, no resuscitation or revitalization possible. I was eaten by a reaper, a monster. Luckily, we were trapped in a paradox at the time, so when it resolved itself, I lived again, brought back to existence. You don't how unsettling that is, to die and be alive like nothing happened." Sherlock added. "John was grieving for me."

"I see, that is upsetting news." Mycroft said. "Be thankful you were in such a situation, though. I would hate for you to lose your chance at life without coming back from the brink. I can tell, though, that you are thinking about coming back, here at least."

Sherlock sighed. "I'm not sure. Part of me loves traveling with the Doctor, John, and Rose in this manner. Yet part of me hates and loathes it as well whenever we are in desperate straits and it even gets boring. I admit it has been difficult at times, not just the dying and near death experiences. Sometimes there have been rough patches between me and the Doctor, even with John and Rose involved."

"Ah, the course of true love never did run smooth." Mycroft quoted.

"Yes, it has been quite bumpy. It isn't always easy, even without the threat of death in the air." Sherlock remarked. "Yet I believe things have gotten better between us. The rough corners and edges have been smoothed, and the Doctor is friendlier and more agreeable than he has been in the past. John and I have reached an agreement of sorts for what might happen in a year's time. Perhaps there is a chance we can mend ourselves and continue on like nothing has ever gone wrong."

"I wish you all luck and success in your endeavors." Mycroft said. "I believe, Sherlock, that despite all the trials and tribulations you and John have suffered in these last few weeks, in the end, your hearts both lie in continuing to travel with the Doctor."

"You might be right about that, but it's still not easy. Part of me wants to return, but I suppose we'll continue. How is the flat and Mrs. Hudson?" Sherlock asked.

"Both fine and paid off handsomely." Mycroft said.

"Good. Did you ever find out anything about Moriarty?" Sherlock asked.

"No, I never did. Never had the time or inclination." Mycroft said.

"You really should try to find out something more about him, her, or it." Sherlock said. "I believe it's the key to this whole thing."

"All right, fine, I will." Mycroft said.

"How is Harriet Jones?" Sherlock asked.

"Doing well in the polls." Mycroft was grinning.

"Right, good luck and congratulations with that. What about you and Lestrade?" Sherlock asked.

"I haven't really had the chance to get to know him better. Busy." Mycroft remarked.

"That's your excuse for everything. Don't let him slip away." Sherlock said. "I think he might be good for you."

"You're not our mother." Mycroft remarked.

Sherlock shuddered. "Don't bring mother up. How are our parents?"

"Doing fine, last I heard. They wish to see you." Mycroft said.

"Another reason why I can't go back yet." Sherlock said, causing Mycroft to laugh. "And Molly? What about Jackie and Mickey?"

"They're all fine, Sherlock, don't worry." Mycroft said. "And I'm fine as well, in case you are wondering. I assume you and John are otherwise fine?"

"Yes. I suppose that's all for now. Good-bye." Sherlock said, hanging up his mobile.

He frowned to himself as he reviewed his whole conversation with Mycroft, wondering if…no. There was nothing wrong there. It might have seemed strange, but Mycroft himself was strange, and perhaps Sherlock's recent disturbance had clouded his perceptions as well. Yes, that was it, he had not fully recovered yet. Perhaps when things were better, he would talk to Mycroft again and get to the bottom of his unsettling thoughts.

Back in his present time in his office, Mycroft's hands trembled until he clenched them tight, sweating. He reached up to rub his forehead, an ache settling into his bones as he desired-no, he must not call Sherlock back. He must not warn him. His clammy hands trembled as he reached out to grab the phone, and fumbled as he dialed, anxiously waiting as he heard the ring and then the answer on the other side.

"Yes? What is it?" The voice said.

Mycroft heaved in a breath. "Master? Mycroft here. Sherlock called."

"What did he have to say?" The Master asked.

"He wanted to leave the Doctor, but I encouraged him to stay." Mycroft said, struggling to breathe, think, and speak in that moment as he fought against himself.

"Good, all for the best." The Master said, grinning.

**Dum-dum-dum! Had to stick Mycroft and the Master in there for the continuing arc that I intend to maintain for...gosh, the duration. Stay tuned, when I return, I'm going to rope in Captain Jack Harkness into the crowded TARDIS! Yay! (I would like your opinions, by the way-should I continue to use this 'Sherlock, John, and the Doctor' for all series/seasons, or should I do sequel stories for the other seasons/series? This could drag on for awhile.)**


	22. Welcome to Blitzed London

Wow, it has been almost 3 months since I've updated this story and the story is approaching its one year anniversary at this point. I really did hope to get out this chapter sooner, but it got delayed due to other projects and only just finished it up. I had an idea or two as to where this story might go, but now I've changed my mind slightly, tell you later. Here is the start of The Empty Child.

* * *

**Welcome to Blitzed London**

"I can't believe we saw an actual dragon." John remarked, turning to Sherlock.

"It only looked like what we imagine dragons to be." Sherlock said as they walked into the console room, "Remember what the Doctor said? Naturally it lived in a cave as a reptilian creature, although that pile of gold was strange."

"Something that Sir Terry Pratchett would have appreciated." John sighed.

Rose and the Doctor looked up as the boys entered the room and the Doctor opened his mouth to explain about the gold when suddenly an alarm rang on the console. The Doctor rushed towards it, typed out a command on the console, and suddenly they were spiraling, spinning through space, everyone just barely hanging on. The Doctor explained the mauve alert, causing John and Sherlock to laugh and hum a song at the 'red's for camp' comment and 'lots of dancing'.

"Hey, don't joke, I had to learn that the hard way." The Doctor remarked.

"What? Were you dancing when someone needed your help?" Sherlock asked.

"Yes, as a matter of fact." The Doctor flushed, embarrassed.

"No wonder you don't like to dance." John told the Doctor before he turned and noticed what Rose was wearing. "Rose, I think you might need to change your shirt. Red is for camp, we're going for mauve danger alert here!"

"Shut up." Rose laughed until they banged around a bit more, jumping time tracks as they tracked down the 'mauve and dangerous' object hurtling through time and space towards London.

"Should I call Mycroft or Lestrade, tell them it's coming there?" Sherlock asked.

"No clue if it'll turn up in their time period or not." The Doctor remarked. "It could be in their future or past."

"Right." Sherlock said, slightly disappointed as for an odd reason, he wanted some excuse to call Lestrade or Mycroft and check up on them.

Maybe he shouldn't worry about them or feel 'homesick' if that was his mood, but for some reason he felt that something was wrong. An idiotic, irrational feeling without proof or merit, but he could not entirely ignore his intuition, especially when his last phone conversation with Mycroft had been so abrupt, disjointed, and unusual.

Not the best basis for an investigation or interrogation as to why someone was acting strange, but Sherlock knew that his brother Mycroft would not normally behave in such a manner and Mycroft was fairly consistent to a fault. Anything out of the ordinary, strange, with him was usually some indicator of a deep-set personal problem and Mycroft did not have many of those. The worst one Sherlock had ever known of involved their brother.

John noticed Sherlock's hesitation and marveled at the fact that Sherlock would voluntarily even consider contacting his brother or Lestrade. Normally he would have to pressure Sherlock into helping them at all with 'boring' cases or just being a brother and friend to them.

Of course, this counted as a more unusual case that Sherlock would be interested in, but the nature of actually thinking about including the two of them showed how much Sherlock had changed in recent weeks. John hoped this might be a promising development towards Sherlock being more emotionally open, invested, and involved, a good sign for their relationship that might become even more serious in a year or two.

But then again, perhaps he was reading too much into this, and he should just try to take things slow and not overreact to the smallest detail. If their relationship was going to develop, it needed to happen organically, naturally, at its own pace without getting too bothered by minute details.

But he was still excited and hopeful nonetheless, silently and slightly giddy with anticipation as he tried to act calm and cool and hoped that Sherlock didn't notice. Of course Sherlock noticed John's odd behavior as well, stifling a smile and a laugh, but he ignored it as much as possible when they had business to attend to and he was interested in this case.

As they finally stopped and stepped outside, looking around with Rose and the Doctor talking, Sherlock and John groaned to themselves. "What's wrong?" The Doctor asked.

"We're in the past, clothes-line." John said, pointing up at the garments on display.

"I think John and I wished we had wound up landing in our own present. Or even a future version of London from our perspective, just in case we might run into somebody we know." Sherlock remarked to himself.

"I just wish we hadn't landed in London on Earth at all." Rose said.

The Doctor rolled his eyes. "How quickly the shine wears off these days. Come on, everyone, enjoy it for what it is. Not everybody gets to travel through space and time, you know. You're lucky to get such a perspective."

Sherlock glanced around, feeling like someone was watching them. "Well, it's not much of a perspective at any rate." He remarked. "Seems like we're in the old slums or tenements near the river before the area was gentrified. It's very dark and quiet, no lights at all, with tape crossing all of the windows and a loud whistling, booming noise in the distance getting closer."

"Oh, hell, it's the Blitz." John said, startling the others as he tore off one of the old 'Keep Calm and Carry On' propaganda posters of the era from a brick wall and showed it to them. "London is littered with falling things from the sky."

"What was that you said earlier about not scanning for alien tech, Mr. Spock?" Rose asked the Doctor.

The Doctor winced and said, "Rest in peace, Mr. Spock. All right, maybe I should. Might make things easier in the long run." He got out his sonic screwdriver and started.

"Perhaps we should stay inside the TARDIS for the moment." Sherlock remarked, glancing around. "Might be safer, the strafing run might be coming through here shortly."

"Good idea." John said, about to head back into the vessel.

"Mummy? Are you my mummy?" They heard a voice say and looked up at a child wearing a gas mask on the roof of a house nearby.

"That's not creepy at all." John said, nervous.

"It's just a gas mask, nothing potent." Sherlock muttered.

"But the way he's standing there and said that seems to imply something strange and scary." John added.

"It's just your irrational fear." Sherlock told him.

"I might be a little bit affected as well." The Doctor admitted.

"Hey, kid, come down from there!" Rose cried, running up towards the fire escape. "Don't you know there's bombing going on here?"

"Rose, get down from there." The Doctor said, pausing in his scan to watch her.

"We can't just leave him up there." Rose added, continuing to climb.

"He probably came out from a rooftop door. He'll probably go back inside." Sherlock said as he and the others started to follow after her. "We should just leave him for now."

"That counts as child endangerment and abandonment. Not good things." John told Sherlock.

"And so we endanger ourselves. How is this helping?" Sherlock asked.

"It helps him." Rose told Sherlock.

"And at least we don't seem heartless and cruel." John told him.

"All very good things, but still not helping." Sherlock told them.

Once they were on the roof, the Doctor glanced around at the sky. "The bombing still seems to be far enough away." The Doctor told them. "We should be okay if we hurry and get the kid and ourselves off of the roof, back to the TARDIS."

"Best bomb shelter in the universe." John sighed. "Wish I was there right now."

Rose approached the boy, now standing on top of a water storage tank. "How the hell did he get up there?" She asked.

"Ask him later." Sherlock said, frowning. "Perhaps you might ask him to come down or jump into our arms so he can be saved."

"Here's a rope!" Rose cried, grabbing onto it.

"That seems mighty convenient and suspicious. Where did it come from?" The Doctor asked, turning around to face her as he was scanning the sky. Then he caught a glimpse of the shadowy barrage balloon floating overhead, passing through this spot. It must have gotten untethered amidst the bombing, its rope- "Rose!" He cried out, but it was too late.

Rose was being dragged up into the air by the floating barrage balloon, and she tightly held on to the rope for dear life, screaming. "Let go of the rope! We'll catch you!" Sherlock cried, not quite certain if they could, but was the alternative better?

John, who was closest to her, grabbed hold of the rope to try and stop it, but it wound up dragging him along, too. "John!" Sherlock cried, and now he and the Doctor were fumbling for the rope, trying to grab hold as they reached the roof edge. The Doctor and Sherlock both tumbled off of the roof, letting go of the rope.

"Doctor!" "Sherlock!" Both Rose and John cried, grimacing as they lifted higher up in the air, right into the middle of the Blitz with Rose wearing a Union Jack.

"Oh, hell, this isn't going to be a good day." John said. "It's been nice knowing you, Rose."

"Likewise." Rose added.

Down below, Sherlock groaned as he lifted his head and winced, aching slightly, but at least he had not broken anything, it seemed. "Lucky we landed in this pile of garbage, although it stinks." He said.

"And you landed on top of me." The Doctor mumbled, lifting his head.

"You were the one shielding me. I saw how you rolled in mid-air to catch me." Sherlock accused. "Thanks for that, by the way."

"You're welcome. Well, I can regenerate, you can't. I almost wish I had regenerated, though." The Doctor groaned as he managed to stand up and helped Sherlock up. "Feeling all right?"

"Fine, thanks." Sherlock brushed himself off. "At least we don't have to deal with any regeneration confusion right now. What about John and Rose? Can we save them?"

The Doctor hesitated, looking up at the sky, and said, "It's risky and uncertain, but maybe we can get the TARDIS into the right position. I'll have to get a bearing on where they are, though, possibly with their mobile signals."

Sherlock and the Doctor managed to rush back to the TARDIS as fast as they could when the phone started ringing. The Doctor approached the phone in the phonebox, nervous like it might jump out and bite him, while Sherlock looked around and spotted a young woman heading towards them.

"I think we have company." Sherlock said, frowning to himself as he wondered what a girl like her would be doing out in the middle of the Blitz.

They hadn't known what was going on when they arrived here, so why would someone from this time period be risking their life out in the open like this and not taking shelter somewhere? It didn't make sense, unless they had a very good reason to be out and about. Perhaps looking for someone?

While the girl warned the Doctor not to answer the phone, Sherlock asked, "Are you looking for a child? A boy about 3 feet tall, asking about his mummy?"

The girl froze and raced off while the Doctor was still distracted about the phone, but Sherlock frowned to himself. "Talk about child endangerment and abandonment. Yet why would she be so scared of it, yet risk her life for it as well? Unless it was her child."

"Sherlock," The Doctor said, holding the phone out to him so that Sherlock could hear the child's voice on the other end of the line repeating the same phrase.

Sherlock shuddered and said, "Definitely something worth investigating as soon as we save the others."

The Doctor nodded and said, "Mind you, though, we might lose track of that girl, the boy's mother if you're correct, before we find and rescue Rose and John."

Sherlock sighed and said, "Fine, I'll go track her down, but call me if and when you track down and save Rose and John."

Sherlock set off after the young woman, following the sounds of a cat and dog disturbed by her presence, and reached an alley with a convenient set of trashcans that he climbed on top of. He watched a family hide in their bomb-shelter, merely a shed in the yard, and then the girl slipped out of hiding and sneaked into their house. Sherlock shook his head and clambered into the yard, sneaking across the grass to avoid being seen by both the family in the bomb shelter and the girl in their kitchen. He entered the kitchen to find that she was already gone from there when his mobile phone rang.

Sherlock answered. "Do you have them? Are they okay?"

"Not yet, but I'm about to set off after them." The Doctor said inside the TARDIS, flicking a couple of switches. "Got the coordinates and everything. Going to be hairy flying this thing." Sherlock was intrigued and almost wished he could be there to actually witness the TARDIS flying. "But my sonic screwdriver just buzzed with multiple points of contact for alien tech."

"We're dealing with a larger threat or incursion than this mauve alert object?" Sherlock asked.

"Not sure, hard to tell if it's aggressive or not, but I'm reading Chula tech on here and they're almost as bad as Sontarans when it comes to warfare. Can't tell you anything more than that." The Doctor said.

"All right, go save John and Rose. Bye." Sherlock hung up his mobile, worrying about the pair as he heard talking in another room of the house. He went off to find out what was going on here.

Rose and John screamed and cringed as bombs burst below them, hitting targets, and swarming German planes soared through the air, searching for suitable targets to drop their payloads. "Swing right!" John said, trying to direct the drift of their barrage balloon to avoid the worst explosions and getting hit by a plane.

Rose swung her body in that direction, grimacing to herself as she said, "I don't think this is working well. The balloon's still going to float-"

"Well, it's the best thing we can try!" John shouted at her.

"Don't shout at me, all right? I'm sorry!" Rose told him.

John shook his head. "I'm not angry at you! I just don't know what to do!"

"Sherlock and the Doctor will come get us, I know it." Rose told him.

"If they survived-" John groaned and shouted, "Left!"

Rose shifted again, but suddenly she lost her grip on the rope and fell. John tried to grab her, and though he caught hold of her arm, his other hand was slipping, receiving a deep cut in terms of rope burn. John cried out and bit his tongue, trying to suppress the pain, but he and Rose were already falling.

Suddenly, a blaze of light streamed out across the sky and caught them, holding them steady in mid-air. Rose and John gasped, certain that they were already dead, while John worried if the German planes would be able to spot them. Then a voice called out to them, a kind of sweet, cocky, American guy's voice, telling them his ship's computer was figuring out their descent pattern and to please switch off their cell phones.

"Oh, good grief, are you alien or from the future?" John asked as he switched off his mobile, while Rose was grumbling.

"A little bit of both." The voice replied. "What about you two, time travelers?"

"Yeah, we're from the future, but traveling with an alien." John added.

"Okay, that explains a lot. Hang on, you might experience some motion sickness." The voice said, and suddenly both Rose and John were zapped out of the sky and into a spaceship.

Rose and John screamed as they fell, and suddenly they wound up on top of a handsome, gracious man, or at least he smelled like one, who staggered underneath their weight and toppled over, all of them landing in a groaning, grumbling pile of body parts. The man, however, started laughing, an infectious chortle that caught hold of Rose and John and suddenly they were rolling all over the floor of the spaceship, laughing and gasping for breath as they recovered.

"Ow, oh, more parties should start this way." The man said, extracting himself enough out of the pile that he could take stock of the situation. But he also was still buried deep enough that he could examine the other two with the type of whole-hearted, solemn, sweet gaze that left them in a reeling, smiling daze. "Hi, I'm Captain Jack Harkness, and who are you two beautiful people?"

"Dr. John Watson, also a captain formerly of the 5th Northumberland Fusiliers, stationed in Afghanistan." John said, trying to sound as impressive and flirtatious to the handsome captain as he possibly could while he felt like throwing up and passing out. His head shouted at him to remember Sherlock, remember Sherlock, but he refused to listen and told it to shut up for now. He would deal with that later.

"Wow, sounds like you saw a lot of action. Welcome to Blitzed London, buddy." Captain Jack grinned and then he paused a moment. "John Watson?"

"Yeah, John Watson, thanks. Oh, you wouldn't believe me if I told you." John started to say.

"Shut up, you're already taken. Rose Tyler, from the Powell Estates." Rose interrupted, wishing she could be a captain or doctor or something equally impressive.

"Rose sounds twice as sweet coming from your lips." Captain Jack tried to say.

"Hey, I can talk to him if I want to!" John interrupted. "It's not like we're doing anything, and what about you and Mickey Smith? Or the Doctor for that matter?"

"The Doctor?" Captain Jack Harkness frowned to himself and asked, "Do you know a Sherlock Holmes?"

"Yeah, Sherlock Holmes, I'm going to…" John started to say and then he and Rose passed out.

Captain Jack frowned to himself. "What am I going to do with you people? Sherlock Holmes, John Watson, and the Doctor. You're certainly not the Time Agents I was looking for." He sighed, "Time travelers tagging along with an alien, I might have known it would be the last Time Lord and his friends. Better wait for the Doctor to show up, see if I can get anything. Though I doubt it at this rate, waste of my time." He grumbled to himself. "Ransom? Nah, better not make the Doctor angry."

Meanwhile, the Doctor slapped his monitor and cursed in Gallifreyan. Rose and John had been there, he had their mobile phone signatures traced and was about to materialize around them, when suddenly they were gone, taken out of the sky. For a moment he feared that they had fallen, tumbling down from the sky and crashing on the ground, or blasted in an explosion.

Sherlock would never forgive him then, and he would never forgive himself. But even then, he would have been able to locate their mobile phone signatures and recover their remains. He quickly set up a scan for alien tech at their approximate last known location, hoping for the best, when he found a trace signature of a tractor beam coming from the direction of Big Ben.

The Doctor breathed a sigh of relief, glad that there was a chance they might still be alive, but now he feared where they might be and who might be holding them. Possibly a Chula warrior, not good news, but something seemed off or odd enough about this whole affair that he suspected something was wrong.

Maybe they weren't dealing with a Chula, but then who would be capable of obtaining or emulating their technology enough to fool even him? It was a puzzle, but right now, he just had to concentrate on finding them. He focused his search on Big Ben and its proximity, but right away his eyes widened and he grinned, laughing to himself as he located the spaceship right below the clock-face.

This had to be a joke of some kind, whoever parked a Chula warship up there…the Doctor thoughtfully considered the possibilities, slowly nodding to himself. Definitely not the Chula, and now he was going to update Sherlock before heading over there himself.

A large party of children and the young woman were gathered in the dining room, feasting on a grand dinner for World War II-blitzed London, which intrigued Sherlock enough that he decided to slip in and join their party. He confronted them when his presence was revealed, questioning why they were here and what they knew about the boy in the gas mask. The children stared at him, scared but also intrigued and amused as he mumbled to himself about 'Marxism in action or a West End musical'.

Nancy, however, glared at Sherlock when he asked her, "Who is the boy?"

"Jamie, his name is Jamie, or at least it was." She ducked her head and said, "My kid brother Jamie, he got hit by a bomb, but it wasn't like any other bomb."

Sherlock caught her lie, but he also noted her odd phrase, which made him pause. "What do you mean by that?"

"He isn't alive, but he isn't dead." Nancy said, looking up at Sherlock. "He isn't human anymore. He's hollow, an empty child. He's not my brother."

"And this bomb that's not a bomb did this to him?" Sherlock asked, staring at her.

"Yeah, and that's not the only thing." Nancy said when they heard Jamie calling and everyone panicked when they thought the front door was open. Nancy ran to close the door as the children fled out the back, and Sherlock followed after her in time to see Nancy slam shut the door and bolt it, staggering back as Jamie slipped his hand through the mail slot, calling for her.

"What harm can he do?" Sherlock asked, startling Nancy when she had forgotten him for a moment.

"If he touches you, you become like him. It's a virus or a plague, that's how Dr. Constantine described it." Nancy said.

"I see, and where can I find Dr. Constantine so that I can find out more about this plague?" Sherlock asked. "And where did the bomb that's not a bomb fell?"

"If I tell you, will you leave me and the rest of the kids alone?" Nancy asked.

"For now, yes." Sherlock told her. "Nancy, I do want to try and help you and the rest."

"Are you really so interested in us, or in solving some case? You're police or a detective, right?" Nancy asked.

"In a matter of speaking, yes, but I'm still interested in trying to help other people as well." Sherlock said. "I have a friend John, he's a doctor, and he would have been deeply invested in trying to help you, Jamie, and the children. He's good at that sort of thing."

"Next time you should have him asking the questions." Nancy said, but she quickly told him about Albion Hospital and the bomb site at the railyard before she left.

"Believe me, I wish he would." Sherlock muttered to himself, wishing once more that John and Rose would be all right as he contemplated the information he had received just before the Doctor called.

"Where are you? John and Rose, are they-"

"I'm sorry, I still don't have them, but they're not in danger anymore, or at least not by barrage balloon." The Doctor quickly told Sherlock the situation.

Sherlock groaned. "Let's hope it's not the Slitheen's cousins." Then he explained his situation and what he had learned, which was met by a moment's silence from the Doctor. "Doctor?"

"Sorry, thinking. It does sound serious, probably what we were chasing before, but I don't see how this could have happened, unless-I'm going to try calling Rose, see if I can reach her now that they're not stuck on a barrage balloon." The Doctor said, changing track. "And get on board that spaceship to get Rose and John out of there. Where should we meet you?"

Sherlock hesitated, thinking about his options, before he said, "I'll head to Albion Hospital to meet this Dr. Constantine, see what he has to say and if there is proof to this zombie plague story, for lack of a better term. I'll meet you there."

"All right, good luck, Sherlock." The Doctor said, hanging up his phone.

"Good luck." Sherlock said, hanging up his phone and getting up and out of that house, walking to Albion Hospital.

* * *

Sorry, should have gone further, I might have finished this episode in one chapter. As it is, I felt like this was a natural stopping point for now. Will write more soon for one-year anniversary of this fanfic, yay! (Or so I hope, stay tuned.)


	23. Captain Jack and the Doctor

This may count as my one year anniversary post, depending on how soon I update after this, although I do have something else in mind for this two-parter, an added bonus end, hopefully next time I post. I hint at it here, I think it will fit time-wise.

* * *

**Captain Jack and the Doctor**

John groaned as he and Rose regained consciousness. "What the hell happened?" John muttered, shaking his head. "Did I say-and he-"

Rose sighed and, in a low tone so that Jack wouldn't hear, as the captain seemed too busy with the controls to notice them stir, she murmured, "Look, it's all right, nothing happened. This guy is a flirt and it's not going to get beyond that. I'm sure you don't have anything to worry about if Sherlock does not find out."

John said, "I guess, but you know what Sherlock is like, he'll find out. Hope he doesn't hold it against me."

"I'm sure he won't," Rose said, though she did wonder about that as well. "Come on, let's get up." With an exaggerated motion and a loud yawn, Rose got up and John followed suit as Captain Jack Harkness turned around to greet them.

"Hello, sleepyheads." Captain Jack grinned, aware they had been talking, though he wasn't sure what about.

It seemed like they were aware it might be a dangerous situation, given their helpless circumstances, but he wasn't about to take advantage of them yet, seeing as how these two didn't have anything he wanted or needed. It was the Doctor he was concerned with when he was curious about meeting the Time Lord and finding out if they could come to some sort of financial or beneficial arrangement regarding the space junk he had picked up.

Hopefully the Doctor didn't recognize what it was, though he doubted the Doctor would remain clueless for long if half the legends were true. Better get out of here as soon as he could then, which he always did, although he would miss London, Earth in this time period.

It had been pretty good to him so far, lots of scams were easy to pull off in a war-torn environment, so long as you remained on your toes and bailed out as soon as you could. On occasion there was that nagging sense of self-doubt and disappointment in himself that he had in the back of his head, remembering the compromises and betrayals he had made to his moral codes in the past few years.

Once he had been a great Time Agent, the best, but now he silenced that part of himself and got on with the business at hand, surviving and making a living. Sometimes that was all he could do to make sense of the universe he lived in. Jack sighed as he faced John and Rose, two very young, innocent people from his perspective as they talked about his service and the discrepancies that occurred with psychic paper.

Rose openly flirted with Jack, but John held back, obviously thinking of his own lover, which Jack admired and didn't mess with, though he couldn't help noticing John's wince. "Did you hurt yourself? Rope burn?" Jack asked John.

"Yeah, just a wee bit, nothing major." John remarked. "Might need some salve or ointment."

Rose smirked slightly, but Captain Jack shook his head. "Nah, you don't need that, not when we've got nanogenes here." Captain Jack snapped his fingers and a swarm of nanogenes appeared, collecting around John's hand and healing it.

John gaped at the sight and then rapidly started talking about the scientific and medical implications of such a technological change. He shared it mostly with Rose, who didn't understand the concept, while Captain Jack was all too aware of the historical significance of the change when he had witnessed and lived through its consequences.

But he smiled and admired John's amazement and giddiness at the concept brought to life, as he was still flabbergasted in spite of his time travel experience at how far humans had advanced through the millennia, from the 21st to the 51st centuries alone. These two certainly brought that into sharp relief.

"Listen, how about we talk more about this on the roof?" Captain Jack interrupted, getting in a word edgewise as he got up from his chair. "Bring the champagne and glasses with you!" He shouted back at John and Rose as he opened the roof hatch and climbed up the ladder.

Rose and John glanced at each other as Rose said, "You bored him."

"You don't-" John shook his head and said, "Sorry, I shouldn't get into this, but these nanogenes are fascinating, aren't they?"

Rose shrugged. "I guess, if it is your sort of thing. Listen, though, can you let me talk to him for a few minutes alone?"

John sighed and rolled his eyes. "You just want to get to know him better."

"What is wrong with that?" Rose asked, and before John could speak, she added, "Besides, Jack definitely wants to get to know us better. We, or should I say 'me', might as well head him off before he goes too far."

John grimaced. "All right, but alert me if something goes wrong. I'll…take care of him for you." He groaned to himself just hearing the words come out of his mouth, unable to come up with a better phrase that didn't sound like an innuendo. Tackle? Hold him back? Everything was turning into innuendos here, thanks to Captain Jack!

Rose laughed. "Don't worry, I can handle him and myself. Just hold yourself back."

John grumbled as he and Rose headed up with champagne and glasses to meet Captain Jack and marveled at the camouflaged spaceship, right in front of the Parliament clock tower. Captain Jack lit up the clock face as Big Ben rang out and then turned on Glenn Miller's 'Moonlight Serenade', blasting out of the ship's speakers right in the middle of the German Blitz on London.

John gaped at the sight and sheer audacity, just stunned as he nervously clutched his glass and Captain Jack poured him some bubbly. "If you wanted to remain inconspicuous, you have failed utterly and miserably, Captain Jack." John remarked.

Jack laughed. "Sometimes it pays to make a grand impression and stand out, even if it is dangerous."

"How can you still be alive if this is how you conduct business?" John asked, sipping his champagne.

"Extremely good luck, lots of charm, speed, strength, agility, flexibility, intelligence, advanced technology and a good firearm. Plus a trick or two up my sleeve." Jack smiled and winked at John and Rose. "These are the tools of my trade and I ply them very well. I will admit standing out and making a good impression is not the be-all, end all of how I conduct my business, just the start of it."

"You've made a very good start of it." John told him as Rose laughed, and started dancing with Captain Jack.

Jack gripped her tightly, swinging her round while telling them about the fully-armed Chula warship that had crash-landed, the last one in existence that was about to be destroyed in two hours by a German bomb. John listened, slowly nodding as he sipped his champagne, but now he wondered what the Doctor would say if he could hear Captain Jack's spiel.

Would the Doctor believe it, or would he question it more, guessing that Captain Jack might be a con artist? Sherlock definitely would question the convenient and expendable nature of the valuable warship. Why would Captain Jack risk bringing such an asset here, to a war-zone, and place it in such a precarious state, knowing that it might be destroyed while trying to sell it to his clients? Talk about a fire-sale, or a long con, to be more specific.

John did not believe it and now he wished that he and Rose could be away from here. And just like that, he heard the TARDIS hum, the vibrating groan of its materialization circuit, which caused both him and Rose to stop and turn around, bringing Captain Jack's shenanigans to a halt. They all stared at the TARDIS coming into existence right before their eyes on top of the spaceship right below the clock-face of the Parliament clock tower. Its rugged blue magnificence stunned their eyes for a moment there.

Captain Jack smiled like the Cheshire cat had caught its prize and murmured, "Oh, you gorgeous, gorgeous thing, what marvels I could do with you."

John frowned at Captain Jack and hissed, "Leave it alone, or so help me-" as the TARDIS door opened and the Doctor stepped out, staring at all of them and taking in the situation.

"Are you joking? Dancing, drinking champagne, lighting up the night, and playing Moonlight Serenade in the middle of the Blitz?" The Doctor shook his head. "This isn't mauve, or red for camp, this is insane or just plain stupid."

"We're sorry, Doctor," John said, putting his glass down and getting up to join him. "We were just trying to find out more about the situation here and we got swept up in Captain Jack's wake."

"Captain Jack Harkness at your service, Doctor, and boy, do I have a deal for you, the last great Time Lord." The man remarked, stepping forward to shake the Doctor's hand.

The Doctor retreated, shocked as Rose and John stood up. "How did you know about that?" John asked Jack, turning to him. "We never told you. I swear, Doctor, we never told him anything about-"

"I figured it out after you two introduced yourselves." Jack remarked, staring at the TARDIS and the Doctor. "I've heard the stories told about the Doctor, his friends Sherlock Holmes and John Watson, the best of allies and most dangerous foes, all spread throughout time and space." He frowned to himself and said, "I never pictured you like this, though, Doctor. All of the stories give varying descriptions, but hardly any of them mention you looking like that."

The Doctor frowned. "All right, that's enough lies out of you. Your name probably isn't even Captain Jack!"

"Oh god, he's telling the truth, about us, I mean," John said, recalling how they met. "Captain Jack did say Sherlock's name before I even mentioned him. How could he have known that unless-say, where is Sherlock?"

"What about me?" Rose asked, feeling left out. "Aren't any of the stories about me traveling with them?"

"I don't know, I think it varies." Jack said, causing Rose to gape at him as the Doctor grimaced.

"It varies? What does that mean?" Rose asked.

"Listen, Jack, I want you to shut up and not say another word to us about such stories, all right? It doesn't do us any good right now." The Doctor said before turning to John. "As for Sherlock, he's gone to investigate the consequences of that bomb that wasn't a bomb, which we chased through the time vortex, landing here."

"Now about that bomb that wasn't a bomb-" Captain Jack started to say.

"Listen, Jack, that space junk you threw at us to catch our attentions has already killed and mutated one child, and who knows how many more people it has already infected if this story of a zombie plague is true?" The Doctor asked.

Captain Jack, Rose, and John stared in shock and horror at the Doctor. "What do you mean, it killed and mutated-it couldn't have done that." Captain Jack said, shaking his head.

"Believe me, Captain Jack, if you've got any heart left in you, you'll come with us and see what your games have done." The Doctor insisted, opening the door of the TARDIS. "Sherlock is waiting for us to meet him at Albion Hospital."

Sherlock approached the black and gold-painted gates of Albion Hospital with the royal coat of arms of the United Kingdom set right above the gate as German bombers soared overhead. He noticed that the foreboding manor hospital overlooked the rail-yard at Limehouse Green station, with a lot of activity going on down there as soldiers on patrol had put up barbed wire and tarpaulin to hide whatever was there.

He assumed at first glance from how close that spot was to Albion Hospital that the spaceship the Doctor had been chasing must have landed there and hit Jamie. It seemed likely enough that they would have brought Jamie to the nearest hospital up here. The gates of Albion were locked with a big padlock, but luckily he was a lock-pick himself, so he set to work as he glanced around to make sure he wouldn't get caught.

As the padlock dropped, he opened the gates and set forth across the lawn and into the hospital, staring around at the empty reception room and hallways as he went deep into the hospital. No doctors, nurses, or patients, except for when he checked out one of the wards and saw them all lying on dozens and dozens of beds, all of them like Jamie with the same eerie gas mask and injuries.

Sherlock took out his mobile phone and set it to the film camera mode, capturing his impressions and view of the scene as he investigated and examined several patients, careful not to touch them as Nancy had warned him. He narrated over the film and noted their similarities, thinking that it was important to send off this information to the Doctor at once before he arrived.

"As you can see," He spoke to the camera, "The virus seems to have infected everyone in the hospital. I'm going to check around some more and see if I can find this Dr. Constantine. Hope to see you soon, Doctor, with John and Rose. Good-bye." Sherlock turned off the film camera and texted the film to him, John, and Rose for good measure.

The mobile phones buzzed inside the TARDIS at once just as they were about to head to the hospital. The Doctor, John, and Rose quickly checked their phones and played the video, with the Doctor immediately showing it to Captain Jack at the same time. Captain Jack gaped at the footage, not quite sure what to make of all of it before he shook his head.

"It can't be true, it's impossible." Captain Jack said, turning to the Doctor. "That thing I threw at your TARDIS, it was just a pile of space junk, an old, abandoned Chula ambulance. It was empty, there was nothing in there. I checked it myself!"

"What about the nanogenes?" John suddenly asked, looking up at Captain Jack and the others. "Those subatomic robots that healed my rope burn? Could they have still been in the ambulance?"

Captain Jack paused, staring at John, and groaned. "Oh, crap, the nanogenes."

"I figured it might be something like that when I heard about this plague and traced signatures of Chula technology." The Doctor remarked, lowering his phone and glaring at Captain Jack. "It depended on how advanced the Chula technology was, what time period it came from, but after landing on your Chula spaceship, I figured out it came from the right time period that nanogenes were being used. But this time period and world are not equipped to handle such an outbreak of alien subatomic robots run amok, especially when those robots don't know a thing about human anatomy!"

"But the nanogenes on Captain Jack's ship, they didn't change John like the others did." Rose said, trying to defend the man. "How can they be different?"

"The ones on Captain Jack's ship were programmed to recognize human DNA, they knew how to handle John's burn." The Doctor explained. "But the ones on that ambulance were probably brand-new, fresh from the factory Chula nanogenes, designed only to recognize and heal Chula DNA, which is quite different. When they came across the dead child and patched him up, tried to heal him, they couldn't figure out how he was made, how to heal him, but they tried their best. And they are programmed to replicate their healing abilities so they spread from human to human after that, trying to heal all of them to be just like Jamie." The Doctor frowned at Captain Jack. "And you are responsible for the deaths and mutations of over a hundred people here."

"We can fix this!" Captain Jack insisted as John and Rose edged away from him. "We can patch up the nanogenes, give them an upgrade, tell them about human DNA. It's not too late."

"There is a possibility, sure, but to do that you have to fix the baseline, Jamie's DNA, and revert it back to its original state, which might be difficult." The Doctor started to say, but then paused as he smiled. "Nancy. Jamie's mother. The original source of half his DNA. If we can get the nanogenes to recognize her as Jamie's mother, then-"

"We've got a chance of fixing this?" John asked, groaning in relief. "Thank god Sherlock found out about her in the first place. Now all we've got to do is fetch Sherlock, find her, and get everything back to normal."

Rose whooped for joy. "Team TARDIS to the rescue!"

At the hospital, Sherlock wandered into another ward, whispering, "Dr. Constantine? Dr. Constantine, are you there?"

"Who is it? Who are you?" Dr. Constantine asked, hobbling into the ward with a cane to help support him.

"My name is Sherlock Holmes, Nancy sent me." The detective told the doctor, holding up his cell phone and turning on the film camera. "I am a consulting detective and I wish to know more about the plague that has affected this hospital. What can you tell me about it?"

"What is that thing you're holding?" Dr. Constantine asked, staring at Sherlock.

"It's a special camera, top-secret. I'm filming you for posterity and for my records." Sherlock managed to come up with an excuse.

"I see, I suppose," Dr. Constantine said, and explained the circumstances of the plague as best he could, including the fact that isolated cases were breaking out elsewhere.

"The plague is spreading, it's airborne?" Sherlock asked, somewhat stunned. "And you're not infected?"

"I'm afraid that's not the case." Dr. Constantine said, staggering back onto a chair and coughing.

Sherlock stepped back, away from Dr. Constantine, and said, "I'm sorry, sir, for your condition, but I want to thank you for all your help."

"Wait a minute, please stay, I want you to record this for your…mummy." Dr. Constantine said, gasping for breath.

Sherlock tried to hold the mobile phone as steady as he could, breathing heavily as he trembled and the doctor changed before his eyes and film camera into one of the gas mask zombies. It was one of the scariest, most intense moments in all of his life. He quickly stopped the recording and sent it to the Doctor and others, hoping they would take the warning seriously. He had to get out of here.

"Sherlock!" He heard John's voice cry out in the distance and he turned around, shocked, hopeful, and worried all at the same time as he realized the others had arrived.

"In here, be careful not to touch anyone!" Sherlock exclaimed, heading toward the door to the ward.

At that moment, on the other side of London, Nancy returned to the house with the black market food, searching for other supplies when she heard the dreaded voice asking, "Are you my mummy?"

Nancy dropped her supplies, and stared in horror at Jamie. "You're dead, Jamie, you're dead." She repeated, crying and trembling.

Just as Sherlock passed by one of the beds, all of the patients, doctors, and nurses sprang up and rose out of their beds. One of them touched Sherlock in that dreaded, unguarded moment. He gasped and froze, realizing what was happening to him as the Doctor, John, Rose and a stranger entered the ward.

"Stop! Don't come near me! Mummy!" Sherlock gasped, choking.

"Sherlock!" John cried, almost ready to bolt forward to his lover until Captain Jack Harkness and the Doctor grabbed the man and pulled him back, wrestling him down.

"I'm sorry," The Doctor said, realizing what was happening.

The foursome watched in horror as Sherlock changed before their eyes, transformed into one of the gas mask zombies and his cold, heartless voice joined in their haunted chorus. John covered his tear-stained eyes and shook his head, groaning at the sight of his former lover slouching forward, shuffling towards them.

"Go to your room!" The Doctor shouted at them and the gas mask zombies froze, staring at him as did the other members of his group.

The Doctor continued to lecture and berate the zombies, sending them off with a stern finger. It was the only thing he could do at that moment to keep himself and the others safe and together, yet he kept staring at Sherlock and the other zombies, seeing all of his failures to save these people combined.

There were so many of them, and there would only be more if they couldn't fix the nanogenes. So the zombies retreated from the Doctor and friends, staggering back to their beds and seat, all except for one zombie, formerly Sherlock Holmes, shuffling past them out the door. They reared away from him, frightened of his touch, but he still continued on without knowing or noticing them as John cried.

"Where is he going?" Rose asked, concerned.

"He's trying to get back to his room on the TARDIS." The Doctor softly said, nervous about John's reaction. "He can't get in there, but he blocks our way inside. We can't travel that way anymore."

"I'm sorry, John, I am, for everything that happened." Jack said, grimacing. "I'll try to make it up to you and everyone."

"We've got to fix him." John insisted, focused on that and ignoring Captain Jack. "We've got to fix everybody. Get out of here, find Nancy."

"We will, John, I'm sure of it." Rose whispered, trying to comfort him.

Together, they walked out of the ward and headed towards the hospital entrance to get out of there. Three mobile phones chimed and they quickly, solemnly glanced at them as they walked along, seeing a text message with video from Sherlock Holmes.

"The video upload must have delayed the signal transfer." The Doctor said as they checked the video, listening to what Dr. Constantine said, but they stopped the video when the man began to change. They had already seen that with Sherlock.

However, just as they were about to walk out of the hospital, the doors opened and Jamie stepped inside, halting them in its tracks. "I sent him to his room, here in the hospital!" The Doctor cried and all of the voices in the hospital started chanting again. "Come on, we've got to find another way out!" The Doctor cried, running away from the child and its zombies as the others followed him. He still wanted to save the rest if he could.

"This way!" Captain Jack shouted, taking out his sonic blaster, which he used to evaporate walls for them to go through and then repair them again, showing off his weapon.

The Doctor and Captain Jack argued and bantered over the weapons factory and banana groves, trying to keep themselves steady and easy, as Rose and John kept running, rolling their eyes. They didn't want to hear this right now. They went upstairs and down through the floors at one point when they were surrounded, until Captain Jack's blaster battery ran out of juice.

"I'm sensing a pattern here." John remarked.

The Doctor's sonic screwdriver still worked, though, locking them inside a medical supplies room as they assessed their resources, very few in this desperate situation. Tired of it all, John sat down in a wheelchair and rolled back and forth across the floor, thinking of Sherlock as Rose stared at him.

"Are you okay?" Rose asked.

"Just waiting for Sherlock to take me." John muttered, disturbing the others.

"I can get out of here." Captain Jack told them, staring up at the others. "I have emergency teleport to my ship that works long-range, but it's only keyed to my DNA at the moment. The rest of you would have to wait until I could arrange to teleport you all."

"Fine, go on and get out of here if that's what you really want. We don't need you." The Doctor insisted and Captain Jack left all of them.

"He doesn't stay for very long, does he?" Rose murmured to herself.

John scoffed. "The perfect self-cleaning con-artist, always leaving and fooling you until there's nothing left but a giant gaping hole and a mess, just like the Doctor."

"I'm not like him." The Doctor insisted. "I try to save other people."

However, even he doubted the usefulness of his skills and abilities now when they seemed to count for nothing at times, and Sherlock and other people lost their lives. Who was he to criticize Captain Jack when he was exactly like him at times, searching for a good time, always running, never able to stay in one place and help others? He was the con-artist here, not even a real doctor, and he failed. He couldn't help them, he couldn't save anyone, just like in the Time War.

The Time War…the Doctor closed his eyes, seeing flashes of battle, terror, and horror as Daleks destroyed everything. His weary, old self trudging through the landscape, ready to destroy everything, and then…he shook his head, wondering why he could see other people there, people he knew. And the stories that Captain Jack spoke of about the Doctor, Sherlock Holmes, and John Watson…the Doctor wondered if the man was lying, or telling the truth? Well, maybe someday, he would find out.

However, Captain Jack did manage to contact them through the radio, which surprised them, though Jamie could also contact them. John grimaced and turned away, not wanting to hear that child's shrill voice anymore when he could only think about Sherlock talking just like that. Captain Jack blocked the signal, however, with the most hated music for John in that moment-Moonlight Serenade by Glenn Miller, which he had been dancing to when Sherlock put himself in danger.

"Shut it off, turn it off, I don't want to hear-" John groaned and sank back into the wheelchair, defeated. "It's not right and it's not fair that Sherlock changed and Captain Jack got away with it."

"He won't, John, I swear to that." The Doctor muttered to himself as he tried to resonate the concrete bars blocking the window, not trusting Captain Jack to save them either.

And he wouldn't trust his dreams and nightmares either, not yet when there was still a chance they could save themselves. They didn't need Captain Jack and his wild, insane fallacies of false hope and dreams, but then again, maybe they did.

So as Moonlight Serenade played on and Rose asked the Doctor to dance, to take their minds off of the danger and despair they were in, the Doctor lowered his sonic screwdriver and accepted her offer. And so the band played on, John sat and gloomily watched, thinking of his lost love, as Rose and the Doctor danced on through the night in the middle of the London Blitz. Even after they were teleported onto Captain Jack's spaceship near the glowing, ticking clock tower of Big Ben, they danced and it was wonderful for a brief, shining moment before reality set in again.

* * *

Sorry about Sherlock. I had planned for John to be transformed. I thought it made sense when Sherlock 'died' in Father's Day. But then John was on the barrage balloon, so...who's next on the roulette wheel?


	24. Dancing for the Future

"The world doesn't end cause the Doctor dances," Rose had said when she and the Doctor started dancing. John didn't believe that, however, as his world had already ended beforehand when Sherlock had changed into a gas-mask zombie.

He didn't say anything, however, even as they were teleported onto Captain Jack's ship once more and he found himself face-to-face with the man responsible for this damage. Captain Jack looked away from John, not wanting to face him, and announced that he was getting the Navcom back online before they headed off, startling Rose and the Doctor out of their dancing reverie.

"Where are we going to now? How are we going to find Nancy to get her DNA?" John asked, turning to his friends. "She could be anywhere in the city at this point and even if we get a DNA sample from her, how are we going to upload it into the Chula nanogenes?"

"He's right. Even I would have a problem finding one girl in this mess." Captain Jack remarked, causing John to glare at him.

"We're going to have to try. As for uploading her DNA sample, we might have to go to the bomb site to do that," The Doctor said, nodding to himself. "Access the Chula ambulance and maybe reprogram the genes from there. It's possible they are still connected to that mainframe. It would be the easiest, fastest way of patching up all of the nanogenes."

"We're on a time limit, though, Doctor, when it comes to finding Nancy and fixing the nanogenes." Captain Jack turned to face the Doctor. "That German bomb is still going to crash land on that site and destroy the Chula ambulance. Once that ambulance is gone, it's going to be that much harder to fix everything before all of human history is changed."

"We'll have to find a way of stopping that bomb. Maybe tracking it down…the bomb not exploding is a minor adjustment time-wise that wouldn't harm anything." The Doctor said, briefly expanding his senses to get a clearer view of time causality.

"You want me to get to work on that?" Captain Jack asked. "I could probably fix up some sort of scanner or maybe a shield."

"Whatever works best." The Doctor told him and Captain Jack nodded, adding that to his workload as he continued to fiddle with his controls.

"Why can't we use Captain Jack's nanogenes to fix the other nanogenes?" Rose asked, curious. "I mean, his nanogenes can recognize and repair human DNA, right?"

The Doctor shook his head. "But his DNA may not be human enough with too many variables involved here. Jack is from the 51st century, three thousand years in the future, and he's probably got a mixture of alien DNA as well from interspecies mating and living on different planets. If his nanogenes reprogram 20th century human genes to a more evolved, mutated state, then that could create some problems and rewrite history to a certain degree."

"Not as badly as gas-mask zombies, though." John remarked. "And you know, if we're going to use other human DNA besides Nancy, why not use mine or Rose's DNA. That would be closer to the mark."

"You're right about that. It's a last case scenario, though, to fix things if we can't find Nancy. I might want a look at Jack's nanogenes, see if I can't get them reprogrammed to yours or Rose's DNA myself." The Doctor remarked. He hadn't thought of that beforehand, but it was a good idea, thanks to Rose and John for making such suggestions.

"Just snap your fingers and they're there." Captain Jack told him.

The Doctor snapped his fingers to summon the nanogenes and they came, surrounding his hand in a flickering storm of lights as he examined them. Rose and John walked over, standing beside the Doctor to watch him work, difficult as it was to discern what he was doing or looking at on such a microscopic scale. John frowned to himself, still amazed that such tiny, subatomic robots could have caused all of this trouble to begin with and ruin his life and Sherlock's among dozens of others.

And it might get even worse before it got better, when in Sherlock's video of Dr. Constantine, the man had mentioned the gas-zombie plague was spreading, becoming airborne instead of just touch/contact related. The nanogenes were spreading in the atmosphere and doing their work. And even if they could be reprogrammed, there was a risk that these nanogenes might never be recalled or summoned back to be contained or captured. What if these nanogenes were still around in the future?

Suddenly the Doctor grinned. "They still have some of your DNA sample on file from when they healed you both. Looks like this might be easier than I thought."

"Navcom is back online and I've got a rudimentary scanner set up for the bomb. Don't know if I can create a shield to deflect it in time. Should I just set a course for the rail-yard, the bomb site, and we'll see what happens?" Captain Jack asked.

"I suppose it's the only thing we can do right now." The Doctor said. Captain Jack was also being pretty helpful at this point. "These nanogenes will have to do without Nancy. You've got a container I can use?"

Captain Jack fetched a jar and the Doctor rounded up as many of the nanogenes as he could. So as Captain Jack set their course and launched his vessel from its mooring to Big Ben, Rose asked Jack why he had become a con artist and got into all of this trouble. Captain Jack described his loss of two years of his memories to the Time Agency, referring to some sort of inclination on the Doctor's part not to trust him, and John frowned to himself.

"He has a very good reason, I'm sure, after everything you did." John added as Captain Jack lowered his head in shame.

"Enough now, John," The Doctor said, taking John to the side and whispering to him, "All right, I think we've made our point."

"What about those two years of missing memories? Have you got a theory on that?" Rose asked, staring at the Doctor.

The Doctor hesitated and muttered, "Time Agency, Time War, there might be a connection there."

"The Time Agency involved me in the Time War?" Captain Jack asked, somewhat dumbfounded. "It makes sense, I suppose, that they got involved in such a conflict, but what did I do?"

The Doctor shrugged and before Jack could press him for an answer, they had arrived at the bomb-site. The Doctor grabbed his jar of glowing nanogenes like fireflies and Jack teleported them down into the yard. They spotted the guards on duty as they approached. Rose thought she would distract them, but Captain Jack shook his head.

"Algy would be more interested in me or John here. He likes a commanding officer." Jack smiled, but John simply shook his head, stymieing and thwarting Jack's flirtations in this instance.

Captain Jack went to work as the others held back, John staring at the jar of glowing nanogenes, the only hope they had left to save Sherlock and the others. Suddenly he heard faint singing in the distance, a woman reciting an old lullaby, and John stood up a little straighter, glancing around.

"Do you hear that woman singing? Could it be Nancy?" John asked.

Before the Doctor could reply, there was a commotion down at the guards' station with Captain Jack fearfully retreating from Algy and the rest of the guards as they were starting to change into gas-mask zombies. "It's getting worse, Doctor!" Captain Jack told him, gasping. "These fellows couldn't have been in contact with the child. They've been on guard duty here for only a few hours. They were at a party beforehand."

"Airbourne infection, that's what Dr. Constantine mentioned before. The nanogenes are spreading." John told them.

"We've got to get my nanogenes and its human DNA programmed into the Chula ambulance mainframe. It's the only way to save everyone." Captain Jack said, holding out his hands for the jar of nanogenes.

"Wait a minute, what about that woman who was singing?" Rose asked.

"All right, Jack, you take the nanogenes and wait for us to come join you." The Doctor said, handing off the jar to Captain Jack. "Me, Rose, and John will go check out the singing woman."

With the jar passed on to Captain Jack, the trio headed for the shed they heard the singing coming from, and indeed they found Nancy sitting there, handcuffed next to a gas-mask soldier. As the Doctor freed Nancy, he introduced himself, John, and Rose to Nancy as Sherlock's friends, for Nancy had only briefly seen the Doctor earlier that evening, but she had spoken to Sherlock for longer.

"John?" Nancy said, rubbing her sore, bruised wrists as they exited the shed. "Sherlock did mention you, I remember. You're a doctor? Say, where is Sherlock?"

Neither the Doctor nor Rose said anything at this point, apprehensive and mournful as they were concerned with John's response and how he might react to this painful reminder.

John got a lump in his throat and managed to say, "He changed. And yes, I am a doctor."

"I'm sorry." Nancy said, lowering her head as they headed for the Chula ambulance.

"Don't be." John managed to say, turning to Nancy. "We have a couple of options available. There might still be a way to resolve this problem and change everything back the way it was."

"Really?" Nancy asked, turning to John. "You really mean that?"

John nodded. "We can fix this, maybe with your help as well." Nancy gaped at him, a little unnerved as she wondered if he might be mad.

John's sudden reversal in mood from gloom to hope, talking to Nancy, actually caught Rose and the Doctor off-guard. They had not expected John to suddenly develop such a positive outlook on what was a grim, bleak situation at best. The nanogenes and Nancy's DNA were desperate gambles at best to save Sherlock and the others, but if John could take such heart from these options, then perhaps they might try to take such comfort as well.

All of this time the Doctor had been blaming himself as well as Captain Jack for putting John, Rose, and Sherlock into such danger and risking their lives. He had blamed himself for the loss of Sherlock and the others, just as he blamed himself for what happened at the end of the Time War. But now that there was a chance to fix everything, he hoped that there might be a light in the midst of this bleakness.

"Hurry up there! I need some help reprogramming this thing." Captain Jack called out to the Doctor as he hunched over the controls, clutching the nanogene jar tight against him.

"Wait for us! I told you to wait for us before you did anything!" The Doctor cried out, joining Captain Jack just as a siren started blaring from the ambulance. The Doctor gasped and clutched his fists, glaring at the captain as his hope was nearly ripped to shreds. "You stupid ape! You tripped the emergency protocols!"

"I'm sorry, Doctor. I hotwired this thing beforehand when I first programmed it to crash-land here in this time period and place. Nothing like this happened before."

"It crash-landed here! It's going to be more sensitive to stupid apes screwing around with its machinery and programming." The Doctor groaned. "You might as well smash open that nanogene jar and release their human DNA into the atmosphere, much good it will do us. This Chula ambulance is now priming its soldiers to come defend it. It's smart enough to avoid sabotage and reprogramming at this stage of the game."

John groaned as Nancy said, "I'm sorry, I don't understand, what is going on here?"

"We lost one of our options to fix this mess." John told her as they heard pounding at the gate.

John and Jack were ordered to secure the gate and Nancy and Rose had to go fix the barbed wire as the Doctor attempted to reprogram the Chula ambulance himself, one last, desperate shot to use those nanogenes. As John and Jack went to work, Jack attempted to apologize and explain that he had done everything he could to fix and avoid such a terrible situation, but John wouldn't hear it.

"The only thing you can do, Captain Jack, is shut up and clean up after yourself." John bluntly told him.

Jack slowly nodded and silently continued as the gas mask zombies began to arrive, surrounding the compound on every side and pounding on the gate. There was no sign of Jamie or Sherlock that John could see, unless they were on the other side of the gate. He hoped that they were here, even if he couldn't stand the sight of Sherlock like this.

After John and Jack had barred the gate and Nancy and Rose had finished up, they returned to meet the Doctor, who delivered a great speech about the nanogenes and why all of the infected gas-mask zombie people were gathered here, mostly for Nancy's enlightenment. She started crying as the Doctor confronted her with the truth about Jamie being her son, when suddenly a bomb landed and exploded a short distance away from them.

John and Rose cried out in shock. "Were any of the people hurt?" John asked.

"No, I don't think so, it was still a bit far away." The Doctor said.

Jack announced that the strafing run was starting with the bomb about to drop on them. "Can't you do something about it?" John asked.

"I will, don't worry about that. I always clean up after myself." Jack muttered as he soon teleported away by himself, unable to take the others with him. He left behind the nanogenes jar with John's and Rose's DNA.

"Another one of his excuses." John muttered, though he wondered about that 'volcano day' comment the Doctor had made. Exactly what would Jack do now? John went over and picked up the nanogenes jar to protect it, prepared to open it if necessary.

At that point, the gate broke, smashed open by Jamie and the horde of gas-mask zombies, with Sherlock's figure visible among them. John gulped, staring at his mindless, lifeless lover, while the Doctor urged Nancy to tell Jamie the truth, convince him. John held his breath, staring as Nancy staggered out to face the boy, always questioning who she was. Nancy repeatedly confirmed she was his mother and then apologized to him, hugging the boy as the corrupted nanogenes started to circulate around them.

John bit his lips and hugged the humanized nanogenes jar tightly, afraid and nervous at the suspense in this process, watching everything unfold with Rose and the Doctor commenting. Suddenly he saw the turnaround and relaxed, hopeful for the first time in a while as the Doctor stepped forward and pulled off the gas-mask, revealing the normal face of a happy, alive four year old boy. All of them laughed and cheered as the Doctor lifted the boy, Jamie, up into the air and then set him back down.

However, before anything else could happen, they heard the whistle of the bomb falling. Before John could even panic or run, suddenly Captain Jack's Chula warship appeared with its teleport beam latching onto the bomb and stopping it. Captain Jack himself appeared straddling the bomb in the middle of the beam, like the cowboy bomber in Dr. Strangelove, and John suddenly realized what Jack was doing.

"Stop, don't do it. You're going to kill yourself." John cried, startling Rose.

"Hey, I've been in worse trouble than this before and I can probably get myself out of it." Jack grinned. "Good luck to you, John, Rose, Doctor. Give my regards to Sherlock, wish I could have met him properly." After a last farewell, and then one last compliment on Rose's Union Jack shirt, he vanished completely.

John felt oddly heartbroken, wishing for a moment that he might have been easier on Jack, who really was trying to fix a situation he had broken. Rose came over and patted John on the back. "John, can you crack open the nanogenes jar?" The Doctor asked, facing them. "It's time to clear everything up and your genes might help."

"Right," John said, cracking open the nanogenes jar and the Doctor summoned all of the nanogenes, patching them up with knowledge of the human genome and throwing in a comment about moves.

He hurled the nanogenes straight into the crowd of gas-mask zombies, all of whom started to change and morph back into their human selves. Rose and John stared at the scene full of joyous life after a night of terrible death, amazed and astounded as Nancy and Jamie stood off to the side.

They laughed and cheered, forgetting about Jack for a moment as the Doctor grinned and raggedly cried, "Just this once, everybody lives!"

Amid the crowd, Sherlock gasped as he changed back to his normal self, horrified and dazed as he couldn't help remembering his last few moments of consciousness, the fear for his friends, lover, and himself. He stared around at the crowd in the rail-yard, wondering how he got here and what happened as he searched for a familiar face.

"John! Doctor! Rose!" Sherlock shouted, staggering through the crowd, and suddenly he was practically mobbed by John and Rose, rushing over to hug, and in John's case, kiss and snog him. "Whoa, John, Rose, I'm all right! Calm down."

Nancy, holding onto Jamie, followed after them, grinning as she watched the reunion. "Oh, Sherlock, Sherlock, Sherlock! You don't know how much I missed you!" John said, hugging him tight. "I love you."

"I get the feeling, John." Sherlock hugged and kissed him in turn, smiling at Rose, Nancy, and Jamie.

Nancy laughed. "I'm glad you're all right, too, Sherlock. Thank you and everyone else for helping me and Jamie out. Maybe things really will turn out all right, like Rose told me."

Sherlock nodded. "It's a pleasure to see you again, Nancy, and I'm glad that your boy is well. Good luck to you two and the kids. Take care of yourselves."

Nancy nodded and walked off with Jamie as Sherlock turned to Rose and John. "I should be more careful and avoid dying in the future. So I did change? What happened? How did you all fix everything?"

John and Rose explained everything to Sherlock, who arched his eyebrows as he heard about Captain Jack Harkness. Meanwhile, the Doctor was busy consoling and assuring Dr. Constantine and the others before he came over and hugged Sherlock as well. "Good to see you again, Sherlock. I don't know what we would do without you."

"It's good to be back as well, Doctor. Thanks for everything, I mean it." Sherlock said, nodding at the others. "None of this would be possible without you around."

"I try my best. Now, why don't we go ahead and detonate this Chula ambulance before some other primitive ape goes about mucking with it again!" The Doctor remarked, causing the others to laugh as they walked back to the ambulance with everyone else leaving, Nancy and Jamie waving good-bye to the TARDIS crew.

"What about the nanogenes?" Rose asked, nodding at Sherlock and the others. "Will the nanogenes still be capable of healing and changing everyone?"

"That might actually be useful. No need to worry about colds or accidents anymore." Sherlock said.

"Well, with the Chula ambulance destroyed, most of the nanogenes should deactivate and become just dead skin cells." The Doctor rubbed his arm. "Wiped off and completely destroyed. Everything back to normal."

"Well, that's a pity, but probably good news. I don't have to worry about any more reprogramming." Sherlock commented. "Now what are we going to do about this Captain Jack Harkness?"

"What do you think? We're going to save him. Everybody lives." The Doctor said. "Now let's clear out of here before this thing explodes!"

They got out of the rail-yard and headed back to Albion Hospital, now looking more cheery and alive in the early morning hours as patients and doctors wandered about the grounds, where the TARDIS had been parked. After they got back inside and celebrated with the Doctor teasing Rose about Father Christmas and her red bicycle, they set off.

Rose and John had an idea about how to greet Captain Jack and turned on the TARDIS loudspeakers, playing Glenn Miller's Moonlight Serenade. Sherlock and the Doctor rolled their eyes, but also grinned as their partners suggested a dance. So all four of them were waltzing, Rose and John teaching the Doctor and Sherlock the steps, as they arrived on board Jack's Chula warship and invited him abroad.

Captain Jack Harkness rushed into the TARDIS and closed the doors before his ship exploded, marveling at the legendary time travel vessel and its crew. Sherlock was impressed enough by the captain's dashing figure that he could see how John and Rose might be smitten by him at first.

Sherlock decided to reserve his judgment of the captain later, after he got to know the man better, but so far from what he knew of him, he definitely was no Adam or Anderson. Captain Jack might actually be a good fit for their crew, despite his dubious past. So they took off once more, the music changing to 'the Boogie-Woogie Bugle Boy from Company B' as they danced on through the night with the captain getting his turn to dance with everyone on board.

Sherlock and Captain Jack Harkness danced the tango, rumba, salsa and mambo, getting the measure of each other and adjusting their steps as necessary to discover more about their partner. John stared, a little jealous, but then he got his turn to swing about with Captain Jack and do the Lindy hop, jive, jitterbug, and Charleston, even tap dancing, laughing and joking after both Jack and John had apologized to each other. Rose and Jack waltzed, grinning and laughing, before they tried out some street dancing, experimental, freestyling and electronic.

Captain Jack and the Doctor danced the Highland fling, Morris dancing, polka, clogging and more from across the universe, impressing John, Sherlock, and Rose before everybody was dancing together. After that, they practically collapsed in their rooms, Jack receiving his own, for a day or two before they recovered. A couple of days passed by and the crew settled down, getting comfortable with one another as their new occupant got the lay of the ship.

He received a tour, marveling at the structure, mechanics, and everything he could get his hands on inside the TARDIS, messing about and learning everything he possibly could. They all toyed around and had a few adventures together inside the TARDIS, watching movies and playing games as they decompressed, ready to start a new adventure outside the TARDIS as soon as they could.

Late one night, Sherlock and John woke up, bleary-eyed and tired as they heard some sort of commotion coming from the console room. Rose and Captain Jack didn't stir in their respective rooms as Sherlock and John got out of bed, curious, and went off to investigate what was going on with the Doctor. As they entered the console room, the Doctor was running around the controls, practically laughing his head off, singing, and dancing.

"Excuse me, Doctor, but what is going on here?" Sherlock asked.

The Doctor stopped and turned to John and Sherlock, smiling as he ran forward and hugged both guys, startling them. "Thank you, thank you so much for everything. I haven't had the chance to tell you two, but I really do appreciate everything you have done and will do for me."

John nervously chuckled and said, "What's the matter with you? You haven't hugged any one of us like this before."

"It's a very special moment. I'm not going to remember it and I'm sure you two aren't going to remember it either. But I want to show you two something wonderful and exciting." The Doctor said, turning to the controls and flipping a few switches so that an image of a planet appeared on the monitor, being attacked by thousands of spaceships. "This is Gallifrey, right at the end of the Time War, and we're going to save it. All of us."

"What are you talking about? I thought it was impossible." Sherlock said, stunned, when he suddenly glimpsed-"Is that us?" He pointed at a blue phonebox TARDIS, spinning and swooping through space before the planet of Gallifrey.

"Nope, that's not us, that's-well, that's me, but a future me." The Doctor added, and suddenly several more TARDISes appeared on the monitor. "Future and past mes, all gathered here together to save our world!"

"Oh my god, is this really happening?" John asked, leaning forward and staring at the sight taking place before his eyes. "Is the Time War really going to end like this?"

Sherlock stared at the image on the monitors and smiled. "You've really done it, Doctor, all of you together."

Suddenly they heard a whistle and then a loud, commanding voice on the intercom shouted, "Doctor Number Nine, come in, is that you?"

The Ninth Doctor sighed and switched the view on the monitor and suddenly Sherlock and John were confronted with the view of a scraggly, but slicked-back brown hairdo of a young man, who appeared to be slightly younger than them, but with the oddly chiseled appearance of an older man with a square-jaw and deep, dark eyes beneath a protruding forehead. But at the moment he was smiling, cheerful, slightly manic and cut a dashing appearance in his purple frock coat with waist coat, shirt, and a purple bow-tie, dashing around his controls in a sterile, but vibrant gray techno-console room.

"Oh, look, it's the boys Sherlock and John! They've joined us! Hello, boys!" The Eleventh Doctor cried out, laughing, clapping, and rubbing his hands at the sight of them. "Look at you two, you look so young! Your hair's so messy, John, and you've got that cowlick, Sherlock! I left you two back with-better not say, spoilers!"

Sherlock and John gaped at the Eleventh Doctor as Sherlock said, "Please tell me that's not you, Doctor."

The Ninth Doctor laughed and said, "I'm afraid so, that's Number Eleven. I don't get better with age."

The Eleventh Doctor's face fell and he cried, "Oi! That's it, no more Jammie Dodgers for you, Sherlock!"

"Jammie-what is that about?" Sherlock asked.

"I think you hurt his feelings." John remarked and told Eleven, "Sorry about that, Doctor, we're just not used to the idea of you being you. But if what you say is true, I suppose we do get used to the idea. Glad to meet you and can't wait to meet you again."

The Eleventh Doctor mischievously grinned and said, "Thanks, John. I always did like you best." Sherlock frowned and John chuckled.

"Oh, come on, Number Eleven, you know that's not true." Another voice interjected, somewhat slicker and more laconic with a twang, and another person appeared on the monitor, surprising Sherlock and John. This person appeared to be around John's age with shaggy, slicked-back brown hair, charming, debonair good looks and wearing a brown pin-striped suit with a blue shirt and a dark blue tie. He was working on his controls in the same console room as Nine. "We like them both equally, don't we, Number Nine?"

"If I have to admit it, we certainly do, although they can be a handful at times." The Ninth Doctor remarked, grinning at John and Sherlock gaping at the Tenth Doctor. "Boys, meet Number Ten, next up on the rotation whenever I do regenerate."

"I hope that won't be for a while, though, Doctor." John remarked, uncomfortable at the thought of his Doctor regenerating, even though these other Doctors seemed nice enough.

"Oh, yeah, they certainly can be a handful, I remember that well. Hello there, good to see you both again." Ten said, grinning. "Sorry about-well, that hasn't happened for you both yet, has it? So sorry about what is going to happen to you two when you're with me. But we do have a brilliant, marvelous time as well."

"Spoilers, Ten." Eleven stressed.

"Don't remind me." Ten glared at Eleven.

"Hmm, Ten's okay." Sherlock remarked, nodding to himself. "Not so much of a stretch between Nine and Eleven, now that I see the in-between state."

"In-between state?" Ten frowned, not liking that term as Eleven and Nine laughed at him. "Now I remember why I always found Sherlock so annoying."

"Sherlock, please don't ruffle any more of the Doctors' feathers. I'm certain that we do have a good time, Ten. You probably don't have to apologize for that yet." John said, staring at Sherlock and shrugging, not quite understanding what he was saying or what was going on here either.

"Thanks for that, John, even though you don't know." Ten said.

"Oh, hush up, boys, let's get to work." A croaky older voice spoke up, but Nine frowned and slammed off the monitor for a moment.

"Who was that?" Sherlock asked, staring at Nine.

"Someone I don't want to speak to or see right now." Nine said, staring at Sherlock and John. "Not yet and maybe not ever."

Suddenly, the monitor zapped back on and another face appeared, except not even a whole face, but half of one. The eyes and the eyebrows were most prominent to Sherlock and John, who stared at the Twelfth Doctor in awe.

"Come on, Number Nine, you've got to acknowledge him sometime." The Twelfth Doctor said, speaking in a rough, gruff Scottish brogue, not as old as the older gentleman who had previously spoken up, but not as young as Nine either. "It's the only way we can ever heal this damage. None of this would have ever been possible if it wasn't for him."

"He's not me! And he never will be." Nine insisted, shaking his head. "He never was."

"What is this about?" John asked, but no one answered.

"Ah, you're hopeless." The Twelfth Doctor said and then glanced at the monitor. "John? Sherlock? Adjust the image, please. I can't see anything but my attack eyebrows."

"Sorry." A couple of voices said, catching Sherlock and John off-guard as suddenly, Twelve's image zoomed out, showing more of his console room and also the older John and Sherlock gathered around Twelve's controls, helping him pilot his vessel.

Twelve grinned at the younger boys in Nine's console room and said, "To better days, my friends, to the past, present, future, and beyond the stars."

"See you later." Nine said, turning off his monitor once more and turning back to Sherlock and John, both of them in an absolute state of shock and confusion. "Go on with you two, off to bed now." Nine told them in a slightly patronizing fashion. "You're going to forget about all of this in the morning and so will I. I wouldn't have a good night's sleep otherwise."

"Good night, see you later." Sherlock said, still stunned as he and John turned around and walked out of the console room. "Unbelievable. It was sheer magnificence. I can't believe we're going to have to forget all of that."

"Ah, well, it's probably for the best. Can't know everything about your own future, even when you're time-traveling." John murmured and then smiled. "Sherlock, did you happen to notice the fact that both Ten and Eleven had cowlicks like yours with their hair slicked back?" He commented.

"Really? Hmm. Must have learned more about hair care products from me." Sherlock said, smoothing his hair back as John laughed, glad that he was traveling with the Doctor, Rose, Captain Jack and Sherlock. Or better yet, the Doctors and Sherlock, because it looked like they had a hell of a lot more adventures ahead of them, though he did wonder what would happen to Rose and Captain Jack.

* * *

Sorry about the delay in posting. Just had to work this out, glad to do the last bit with the boys and the Doctors, been thinking about that for a while! To more adventures!


	25. Spaceship!

Hello again! According to a BBC website post on July 31, today there are about 48 days until the premiere of Series 9, yay. So I thought this time around, in conjunction with what happens to be my 25th chapter of this fanfic, I would do a fun chapter with Captain Jack and the boys. Part of me is thinking about a major canon change to my version of Series 2, but I'm not sure how it will play out. Wait and see.

* * *

**25\. Spaceship!**

"You know what I would like more than anything else in the world?" John asked as he, Captain Jack, and Sherlock knocked back a couple of shots at a bar in a space-port. They were waiting for the Doctor and Rose to return from wherever the hell they had gotten to after having gotten separated in a mob earlier that day.

"The whole world?" Sherlock incredulously remarked.

"Scratch that, force of habit. I mean, the whole universe, the whole space-time continuum thing? A spaceship, a real, live, proper spaceship to fly around in." John said.

"We've already got a spaceship, and she's a damn fine one. To the TARDIS!" Sherlock toasted with Captain Jack.

Captain Jack grinned. "Yeah, the TARDIS, why should we want another one? To mess around with?" Then he frowned. "You know, maybe that's not such a bad idea. We could always use a spare and mine got blown up by that ridiculous World War 2 German bomb."

"See? Even Captain Jack thinks it's a great idea! I know we got the TARDIS, but it doesn't really count." John told Sherlock.

"It doesn't count? You're just being ridiculous." Sherlock said.

"I mean, it's such a tiny, little explosive device compared to all of the other weapons and things we humans and other beings have come up with all over time and space." Captain Jack muttered to himself, taking a drink. "Why did my spaceship have to get blown up by such a wee, tiny bomb? I wish it could have survived. Stupid vacuum of space."

"The vacuum of space is a nightmare." Sherlock agreed.

"Well, the TARDIS does have the controls and ability to travel all over the universe and time itself, yes, but you don't have the maneuverability factor. With another spaceship aboard the TARDIS, if we ever had to make a fast escape-" John told Sherlock.

Sherlock scoffed. "You want the TARDIS to be-what, exactly? A sports car? A cruiser? You want to cruise around space and show off, don't you? No wonder Captain Jack agrees with you, it's the sort of thing he would do."

"Well, maybe." John blushed.

"Hey, don't insult me like that. I might take it personally." Captain Jack told Sherlock.

"All right, fine. I'm sorry, Captain Jack. I know you're not a completely egotistical, narcissistic show-off." Sherlock said.

"Sherlock, please." John said.

Captain Jack rolled his eyes. "That's a put-down, but I'll excuse it for the fact that you're not the greatest being in the universe either."

John snorted as Sherlock sighed. "Yes, we all have our faults."

"You wish you were perfect, don't you?" Captain Jack shook his head. "John must have the patience of a saint to be with you."

"Thanks, Jack. That means a lot to me." John said.

"You're quite welcome." Captain Jack grinned at John.

"You're jealous he's not with you." Sherlock grumbled at Jack.

"Well, why can't we all be together? That's what I've been saying this whole time." Captain Jack said to Sherlock and John.

The other pair looked at each other and shrugged before John said, "Maybe some other time, if we can reach an agreement." Captain Jack perked up as John continued, "Right now, to be honest, I'm getting tired of the whole police box ethos."

"How can you say that, John? It's the whole ethos of the TARDIS! It's practically built into the structure of the thing." Sherlock remarked.

"I know, but I mean it's a huge ship, it's got hundreds of rooms, yet it does feel like, sometimes, we are trapped inside that blue police box." John squeezed himself down into the box shape. "Infinite space in a tiny, little package." Captain Jack laughed as John continued, "You don't get the sense that you are really traveling through time and space. Part of me wants a little spaceship that can zip through the universe and give you that experience of travel." John said.

"If you were really riding a spaceship that gave you the sensation of traveling through time and space, you might drop dead from all of the gravitational forces and velocity being exerted on your body." Sherlock said.

"That's a sad thing to think about." John said, looking down at his body.

"Don't think about it, then. I try not to, but I can't help it sometimes with how well I remember things." Sherlock said.

"I feel bad you have such a good memory." John said.

"So do I at times, but it helps me in my work." Sherlock said.

"Spaceships do have inertial dampers. All spaceships are equipped with them." Captain Jack added.

"Yes, but how do they actually work? It's mind-boggling at times that they actually work." Sherlock said.

"It's a very complex gravitational and velocity procedure, but suffice to say, everything slows down, yet gets pressed down or up to the right amount equivalent to one g." Captain Jack told them.

"Que?" John asked, confused.

"It's like some complex course correction, is what he's saying, that everything resolves itself around one form of force being applied to another, but that doesn't really make much sense either." Sherlock said.

"It's really advanced rocket science, far ahead of you in the future. But it really does work itself out." Captain Jack said.

"Captain Jack's living proof of that! To Captain Jack, rockets, and the future of humanity!" John cried with another toast.

Sherlock said, "Well, a spaceship's not going to be much better than the TARDIS! It's going to be even more crammed and jammed in together compared to the TARDIS, which is a palace of wonder. A palace of wonder and marvels."

"You just think it's your mind palace brought to life in a solid format." John muttered.

"It might be with how perfectly formed it is." Sherlock said.

"You've got to explain that whole mind palace to me sometime, Sherlock." Captain Jack said, glancing at the other man. "I would enjoy getting a peek inside that head of yours."

"I might consider sharing that knowledge with you, but at a later date. Right now we should deal with this whole TARDIS/spaceship fiasco." Sherlock said.

"You've got yourself a deal. Personally I would have given anything to have as much room on my spaceship as we do now on the TARDIS." Captain Jack said, turning to John. "Imagine spending ten months trapped inside two cramped rooms in a tin can floating through space with nothing but the controls to mess around with and yourself. I was dying of boredom before I even had to worry about my food, oxygen, and water supplies."

"That sounds horrible." John said.

"See? There you go, Captain Jack Harkness knows exactly what he's talking about!" Sherlock remarked, toasting his glass to Captain Jack's glass. "To Captain Jack, his spaceship, and all the trials and tribulations he and others had to suffer in space travel before the TARDIS came around and picked him up with us."

"Thanks, thanks a lot. That means the world to me." Captain Jack smiled. "But you know, if you really want a spaceship, why don't we go steal one ourselves?" Captain Jack asked John and Sherlock. "Just for a little joyride so that you can get the thrill of flying through space and understand how cramped and obnoxious the quarters really are before you return to the TARDIS. We'll return the spaceship to its original dock afterward, no damage, and refuel it if possible, depending on what sort of ship it is."

"Yes, that's exactly what we should do!" Sherlock cried, smiling wickedly. "Go steal a spaceship, like flying a kite. Toast!" They knocked their glasses together and drank.

* * *

In another part of the space-port, the Doctor and Rose were tied up together with the civil authorities vigorously and harshly questioning them as to the whereabouts and activities of an underground revolutionary. Neither one of them would respond with anything more than a bitter, sarcastic retort, leading to more violence, abuse, and torture. Whoever was hurt, the other would shout at the authorities to leave them alone, and so round it went back and forth.

Finally the Doctor and Rose were left alone, bruised and battered in their cell, but still together. "How are you holding up, Rose?" The Doctor asked her.

"Fine, thanks, never better." Rose managed to say, spitting out some blood and grimacing to herself. "What about you?"

"Could have been worse." The Doctor said, adjusting his shoulder and mentally examining himself to see if everything was functioning all right. Kidneys were fine. Spleen was questionable. Shoulders might be dislocated. A couple of ribs were broken, no biggie. Were both hearts still functioning? He might have to work on that.

"Where do you think the boys are, and Jack?" Rose asked, now worried about them as a way to distract herself from thinking about their condition.

The Doctor laughed. "If I know them, they're bound to find some way of rescuing us. Anytime now." He sighed, not holding out much hope, though. He wished he had not lost his sonic screwdriver in the mob.

* * *

"Where did you get that?" John asked, gaping at Sherlock, proudly holding the sonic screwdriver as they approached a space-ship dock. "Did you actually manage to steal the Doctor's sonic screwdriver?"

"Bravo, Sherlock! Good for you!" Captain Jack clapped, grinning. "Although you're going to be in big trouble when the Doctor finds out, look out for the Oncoming Storm. I cannot wait to see that episode!"

"I didn't steal it, I'm borrowing it." Sherlock said. "And I don't think the Doctor would mind, I think he would be grateful. The fact of the matter is, I saved the sonic screwdriver. It fell out of the Doctor's grasp in the midst of the crowd and I managed to pick it up before we were all trampled and separated."

"Sure you did, Sherlock, sure you did. Sure it wasn't some form of legerdemain or pickpocketing?" Captain Jack asked with a wave of his hands.

"That's more your style, not mine. Except for the pick-pocketing, that's completely my style at times if necessary for a case. In any case, the Doctor would have been absolutely devastated if the sonic screwdriver was destroyed. I don't think he can easily get a replacement for it." Sherlock said.

"Is that a bet?" John asked. "I bet the sonic screwdriver could be easily replaced if the Doctor had the right tools and parts."

"You're on, John. Right now we need the sonic screwdriver to steal, control, and then return this spaceship to its dock for a chance to satisfy your whim of flying in a space-ship." Sherlock said, patting the ship they intended to steal for a short joyride. It was a marvelous, gorgeous, light and speedy ship that would surely satisfy John's desire for a quick, fast and realistic trip. "I had hoped to return the sonic screwdriver to the Doctor as soon as possible when we were all reunited, but top priorities come first, and you're my main one, John." Sherlock said, smiling at him.

"Thanks so much, Sherlock, love." John said, hugging and kissing his boyfriend as Captain Jack sighed.

"Plus I can always blame you if things go wrong and we lose either the spaceship, the sonic screwdriver, or both." Sherlock added, causing John to hit him and Jack to laugh.

Then they set to work, Sherlock working the sonic screwdriver and Captain Jack advising him on the sort of lock or security procedures that would be in place as John kept lookout as a potential bodyguard. Once they were able to access and enter the ship, they disabled any additional tripwires and security protocols, making their way to the control panel for the ship. Captain Jack and Sherlock worked the controls, unclamping the space-ship's anchors and firing it up, allowing John to watch and admire the whole procedure, feeling the ship lift up into the air and whooping for joy.

"This is great! Definitely better than any plane or copter I've been in." John remarked.

Captain Jack took over the controls, piloting the vessel through several standard and trick maneuvers so that John would feel and experience different sensations of space travel. Including weightlessness, as Captain Jack momentarily shut off gravity control, allowing them all to float for several minutes. John and Sherlock managed to figure out some of the difficulties, problems, and issues with weightlessness, including thrust, momentum, and direction, to the point where they managed to hug, holding on to each other, before spiraling apart.

"Awesome. Totally awesome. I'm speechless." John marveled, looking out through a viewport at the wide expanse.

"You're good, John?" Sherlock asked.

"Yeah, I'm good, mate. Ready to set her back down." John gave the thumbs up.

"All right, I'm going to turn the gravity back on. Hang on tight and stabilize yourselves, or you might find yourselves falling." Captain Jack said, pushing himself off toward the controls and the gravity stabilizer switch when suddenly, a proximity alarm went off.

The space-ship was spun off-course by the thrust of a passing carrier, sending it spiraling through space, the people screaming inside as they swung wildly about the capsule, and everything flew through the spaceship, with Captain Jack getting practically knocked out by a trash bin. Sherlock managed to grab onto a bar bolted to the wall, and recovered enough sensibility and information to recall how Captain Jack had accessed and controlled the gravity stabilizer. He glided over to the control panel, avoiding debris, and grabbed onto a bar near there to hold himself in place as he turned the dial, switching gravity back on. Everything fell to the floor, including a dazed, near unconscious Captain Jack.

Both Sherlock and John had grabbed hold of bars to hold them steady, preventing injury, but now they were faced with an out of control spaceship, which might be damaged, and their pilot was incapacitated. Sherlock attempted to take stock of their situation, examining the controls and readouts, as John saw to Captain Jack and check his condition.

"What are we going to do?" John said.

"First of all, I blame you for this joyride gone to hell, and then we're going to make things right and land this thing." Sherlock grabbed the controls, remembering just what Captain Jack did, and figuring the reverse might work best. "It won't be pretty. Hang on tight!"

* * *

"I'm going to kill Sherlock, John, and Captain Jack next time I see them. If I ever see them again." The Doctor remarked as he and Rose faced the executioner, prepping his instruments.

"Any final words?" The executioner asked, facing them.

"This isn't right or fair and you know it." Rose said, glaring at the man. "We didn't do anything."

Before the Doctor could open his mouth, a loud, screeching noise like a thousand bats out of hell could be heard in the distance, causing the executioner to look up in horror as a small spacecraft crash-landed through his section of the prison, wiping out that side of the building. The Doctor had bent down and shielded Rose from the onslaught of debris, and then they looked up in shock at the spacecraft's continued trajectory straight into the hall of law.

"Fantastic might not be the best or worst word here." The Doctor said.

With their electric shackles cut off by the ship's landing, the Doctor and Rose staggered along in its path, escaping the prison and catching up with the ship as it shuddered to a halt. Soon after, the spaceship door was flung open, and out staggered Captain Jack, hand pressed up against a jagged cut on his forehead.

"Is it morning already? Where did all of the pretty birdies go?" The captain asked. He stumbled about, then turned around and faced the Doctor and Rose. "Hello, Grandma! Is it morning yet?"

"Yes, it is, but I really think you need a good night's sleep." The Doctor said, blowing a breath of air at the captain, practically knocking him out like a feather as he crumpled into the Doctor's arms.

"You're enjoying this, aren't you?" Rose asked, grinning at the Doctor holding Captain Jack.

"I won't lie." The Doctor said nothing further.

Then John staggered out of the spaceship and vomited as he clutched at terra firma for him. "I'm never going up there again. I'm never going up there again."

"What happened to you guys?" Rose asked, coming forward to see if John was all right.

Sherlock swaggered out, smiling and whooping. "We made it! We survived! I did it! I piloted a spaceship!" He thrust the sonic screwdriver up into the air.

"Oh, you have got to be joking." The Doctor said, staring at Sherlock.

Sherlock paused, realizing what was going on here with the Doctor and Rose, and said, "It's not what it looks like. I borrowed, saved your sonic screwdriver. Here, you can have it back." Sherlock thrust the sonic screwdriver into the Doctor's hands. "And John is the one who wanted a joyride in the spaceship. If Captain Jack had not gotten knocked out and turned off automatic controls-"

"Don't blame it on the beaver." Captain Jack mumbled.

"Jack's right, Sherlock did try his best." John amended. "He acted admirably in the situation that we had put ourselves in."

"I think we should get out of here." Rose said, pointing at the guards heading their way.

"All right, I'll deal with you three later. Thank you for saving us." The Doctor added as they all hightailed it out of there and back to the TARDIS, gladly leaving that space port and ship wreckage behind them.

"You're quite welcome." Sherlock grinned.

* * *

Back in the 21st century, Molly Hooper rang the bell at 221 Baker Street with Ms. Hudson answering the door and greeting her warmly. "Oh, dear, it's so good to see you! How have you been? Any interesting cases down at the morgue?"

"I'm fine, and no, nothing unusual. Are you actually bored without Sherlock and John around?" Molly asked, hefting the empty travel bag on her shoulder as Ms. Hudson closed the door.

"Oh, you know how it is. At first you can't stand all of the fuss and the messes that the two of them leave behind for you to clean up. But then you actually grow to miss them when they're gone. I'm actually dying for some news about cadavers and exciting mysteries waiting to be solved. At least they're happy, though, traveling around with the Doctor." Ms. Hudson said as they crossed the hall and climbed the stairs.

"Do you hear from them often?" Molly asked.

"I get the occasional call from Sherlock and John, and they pop in to visit now and again with their friends, including a very handsome American, Captain Jack Harkness." Ms. Hudson blushed as they entered the flat of 221B. "He actually flirted with me a couple of times before they stopped him, but I didn't mind him at all. I've missed the attention from attractive men. I used to be quite a looker back in the old days, but not so much now."

"You still look wonderful, Ms. Hudson." Molly said as she glanced around the place, which seemed quite empty without the boys. "So what am I supposed to take to Cardiff?"

"Ah, over here, nothing much, really." Ms. Hudson pointed over at the dining table, which had been cleared off a little bit of experiments. "Some mail, including packages that have already been inspected by the police; a few written requests from potential clients about their cases, one or two of which might interest Sherlock; a care package from me, nothing much aside from some treats; and, of course, that box." Ms. Hudson grimaced slightly as she indicated the black square box that sat, bundled and tied up with string and tape, hulking on the table-top.

Even Molly was a little bit nervous about handling the box, but she stuffed it inside her empty travel bag along with the rest of the mail, written requests, and the care package. "All right, I'll take it over there."

"Thanks, sweetie. I'm sorry about calling you up like this, but Lestrade and Mycroft are probably all too busy and I'm not very good traveling on trains. Even the flight from Florida was a nightmare for me. Plus I'm certain that I would have gotten confused trying to find that Roald Dahl Plass."

"I understand, and it's all right, Ms. Hudson. It's no problem for me. But what about Sherlock and John, why couldn't they have come here in the first place?" Molly asked.

Ms. Hudson shrugged. "They said it was going to be a short stop-over, this trip, and they couldn't waste time traveling back and forth."

"I see, right." Molly hefted the now full travel bag onto her shoulder and said, "Well, I'll see you later, Ms. Hudson. Bye."

She left the flat building, muttering to herself about the chore, and made her way to the train station. She boarded the train to Cardiff without much trouble, though she had worried what she might tell the police if they had discovered what was inside the black box. She probably would have referred them to Sherlock.

She brought a book to read on the trip, though she glanced around at her fellow passengers and noticed a cute young man, probably a couple of years younger than she was. He was typing and texting on his phone, and though he looked gruff, he might be friendly.

"Have you been to Cardiff before?" She asked the young man on a whim. Normally she wasn't so brave or extroverted, but she felt a little adventuresome today with this trip and maybe actually seeing the TARDIS in person after hearing about it.

He paused and glanced up at her. "Nah, my first time. Going to meet up with some friends of mine." He sounded a little skeptical of that.

"Do they live there?" She asked.

"Nah, they're visiting as well from a long way away. Refueling, they said." He muttered.

Molly paused, remembering the words Sherlock had used. "My name's Molly Hooper. I'm friends with Sherlock and John."

Mickey Smith gaped at her. "No. Oh, you have got to be joking. I'm Mickey Smith, I'm friends with-well, I was Rose's boyfriend, but now I'm not so sure anymore."

"I'm sorry about that." Molly said, nodding. "It's a little hard for me as well, heading out there to see Sherlock."

"This is the pits, you know that, right." Mickey said, shaking his head. "Having them gone out there, doing all sorts of stuff, and you don't know what's going to happen to them or if you're ever going to see them again."

"I know, but what are you going to do about it?" Molly asked him.

Mickey shook his head. "I'm not sure, but I'm going to try talking with Rose one last time about this mess. See if I can try to patch things up with her before it's too late. You know what I'm saying?"

Molly nodded. "I hear you."

"You're all right, Molly Hooper." Both Mickey and Molly grinned at each other.

* * *

I know this meeting between Mickey and Molly might be a little awkward, but I thought I wanted to give it a try. So I am going to do Boom Town next, beginning of the end for the TARDIS team-or is it? I'm wondering if the whole Captain Jack thing might be flexible in terms of plots and stories. I'm going to test it out, hopefully the thing works and he might stick around for longer. Wish me luck, until next time. (Hopefully I post again before the premiere.)


	26. Such A Nice Day

Hello. I had hoped to post sooner, but you know how time can get away from you. So Series 9 has premiered and been going on for several weeks. The Woman Who Lived aired a couple of days ago. So far the series is shaping up well, though with a hiccup or two. Or belching fire with glowing eyes. But there has been a lot of great stuff, too, and I look forward to the rest of the series. Also, Sherlock: The Abominable Bride has been announced, to air on New Year's Day. I look forward to watching that, wondering how that might fit in with later plans for my fanfic. I have a few ideas for a few years down the road, depending. Anyway, here's the start of Boomtown.

* * *

John and Sherlock groaned as they got out of bed and headed into the bathroom, jostling for position at their sinks and then in the shower.

"I had a really weird dream last night, same one I've had for a week or two now." Sherlock muttered, shaking his head as he let the showerhead spray down on him.

"Do you remember what it was about, specifically?" John asked as he reached for the soap.

Sherlock shrugged. "I don't know, that's the trouble. It's all a bit of a blur, but there were so many different people and things in the TARDIS."

John scoffed. "Your mind palace is supposed to be magnificent and all-encompassing, but even you have trouble remembering dreams."

"I never said my mind palace was magnificent and all-encompassing." Sherlock grumbled.

"Well, when you use a term like 'mind palace', it evokes a certain image, sort of like this TARDIS." John said as they finished off their shower, got out, and dried themselves off.

"What am I supposed to call it then, my mind hovel? The attic? The basement? The sewer? I can't even call it a mind mansion, because there are so many rooms and levels." Sherlock told John. "Sort of like the TARDIS, then."

"Do you have a subconscious level, like dreams and things of that nature?" John asked.

"Yes, I do have a couple levels buried so deep inside my mind that I can't access them directly. I suppose that's where my dreams and other such nonsense reside, though I do wish that I could fully grasp them." Sherlock shook his head. "I suppose there are some mysteries that even I can't solve."

After they got dressed, they heard a knock on their door and answered it to find Captain Jack standing outside. "We're about to materialize in Cardiff."

"Ah, good, excellent! We have work to do here." Sherlock remarked, rubbing his hands together as both John and Jack rolled their eyes and smiled.

* * *

"A riding crop?" Mickey asked, staring at Molly.

"Mmm-hmm," Molly said as she and Mickey walked together down the steps into the Roald Dahl Plass. "A riding crop, he said he wanted to test out a theory on where those bruises had come from. Apparently the victim had been an avid rider."

Mickey shook his head. "All right, that's strange, but those farting aliens certainly did take the cake."

Molly grinned fondly, thinking about that one adventure they both had. Yet part of her also wondered at what other adventures her and Mickey's friends had experienced on board the TARDIS.

What if these other adventures might have been even stranger than the one with the Slitheen? Were she and Mickey both missing out on something special?

"I suppose you're right about that. Is that the TARDIS over there near the fountain?" She pointed at the blue police box sitting in the middle of Plass.

Mickey nodded. "Yeah, that's them all right. Can't believe we came all the way out here to see them when they could have come to see us instead. They're the ones with the time and space traveling vessel."

"But we came anyway." Molly said, glancing at Mickey as they walked across towards the TARDIS. "I suppose we might be dupes, but we still care about them anyway."

"I suppose you're right, but sometimes I just wish I didn't feel this way anymore." Mickey sighed. "Come on, let's face them all together now."

Molly and Mickey walked up to the TARDIS doors and knocked, but a stranger answered the door.

Mickey was surprised, but Molly said, "Captain Jack Harkness, right? Ms. Hudson told me about you."

Captain Jack smiled at her. "Well, you must be Dr. Molly Hooper. Sherlock and John neglected to say how enchanting you look, but they are surrounded by lovely ladies."

"I'm certain they did." Molly said as she and Mickey entered the TARDIS, and were greeted by the others, who appeared to be busy performing some routine maintenance and repairs on the vehicle.

* * *

At first Sherlock barely looked up at Mickey and Molly entering the TARDIS, engrossed in his task. But then the others started yelling at him to come down and join them.

Sherlock groaned, a little annoyed with the distraction. But finally he obliged to keep the peace with John and the others and give himself a short break from resolving a most difficult problem.

No matter what he tried, he just could not straighten out these two wires. And then those couplings were coming loose, and everything was a mess and falling apart on this rackety old time and space traveling vessel.

It frustrated him to no end, especially when he thought about that little rocket he, John, and Captain Jack had briefly 'borrowed', or Captain Jack's Chula warship. Even though neither one could travel through time, those vessels had been top of the line, first-class quality workmanship with excellent design for their time periods and places.

They had the best equipment in wonderful working condition, not falling apart at all. And they soared through space, giving their passengers an excellent, comfortable, thrilling ride.

This TARDIS really did break down a lot and was shoddily put together with haphazard parts. That probably led to all of the crash landings and bumpy rides galore.

No wonder so many of the Doctor's companions had left after a few years of traveling like this. They probably couldn't stand riding this thing forever.

He didn't understand how the Doctor could stand it, but then again, the Doctor had no choice. It was the only TARDIS left and it had probably grown on him over the centuries, despite all of its faults.

But right now Sherlock could only see the faults, grime, and wear on the vessel, not any of its finer, hidden qualities to admire. He wanted to change all of that. He wanted it to be the most perfect vessel and home that anyone could wish to have.

Rose and John in particular thanked Mickey and Molly for bringing their passport, mail, case requests, and care package from Ms. Hudson. Sherlock merely grunted.

He didn't understand why people would obsess and make a fuss over such middling, tiny things. There were more important matters and issues to deal with.

"This is definitely going to tide us over for a little while." John said, admiring the care package Ms. Hudson had given them.

"Not for very long." Captain Jack added, snatching a biscuit from the package before John could stop him. "Mmm, Ms. Hudson makes the best cookies. Tell her thanks for me."

"Ta from me too," The Doctor added, snatching a biscuit as well.

"No problem." Molly said as the others started sampling the care package.

"Marvelous stuff, almost reminds me-" Mickey hesitated and shook his head.

His mind had wandered to his Gran for a moment. She was gone now, tripped over the carpet on the stairs. She was the only home he'd ever had until he met Rose, and now he wondered if he was losing her, too.

"What is it?" The Doctor asked, sensing something wrong. He stared at Mickey for a moment and even Rose looked up, perhaps half guessing at what Mickey was thinking about.

"Nothing, nothing, forget it," Mickey said, not wanting to share something so personal with this alien menace taking his Rose away.

"Did you get Billy?" Sherlock asked Molly, finally speaking up after it seemed like everyone had eaten.

"Yes, I did." Molly sighed and handed over the black package taped and strung together, disturbing and disgusting even those who knew what it was.

"Excellent," Sherlock said, ripping off some of the tape to glance into the package. "The skull appears to be undamaged."

"Skull? Oh, that's disgusting. I can't believe I was traveling with a skull close at hand. No offense, Molly." Mickey said as Molly shrugged it off.

"I understand how it can creep people out. I may work with cadavers all day long, trained as a coroner to look at them passively and judgmentally examine them closely. But even I know how strange it is when they were once living people as well." Molly said.

"Might even creep me out." Captain Jack added.

"Yeah, true enough." Mickey said, contemplative for a moment.

"I might have banned it, but Sherlock would have caused an uproar." The Doctor remarked.

"You have stranger stuff lodged in the collections you have aboard your ship." Sherlock commented.

"See? He just won't let it go." The Doctor joked.

"I'll have you all know that Billy has been perfectly cleaned and preserved so that, hygienically, he's cleaner than the average bar of soap." Sherlock told Mickey and the others, grossing them out even further.

Sherlock turned to John. "Isn't it lovely? He'll look wonderful sitting on the mantel in our room."

"We don't have a mantel yet." John said to Sherlock.

"We're getting one. Even if I have to convince the TARDIS myself." Sherlock said.

"Good luck with that." The Doctor rolled his eyes.

"Why is it necessary to bring along a human skull?" Rose asked, a little queasy at the prospect. "I mean, it looks lovely and all, but is it worth getting Molly into trouble carrying it?"

"This skull helps me think, meditate, ponder possible problems and find solutions to them." Sherlock said, waving the skull alarmingly close to Rose.

"Easy on the skull, there, Sherlock." Captain Jack said.

"Sorry." John told them.

"I need this skull to get myself better situated and settled here on the TARDIS so that I can solve any case that crosses my path." Sherlock said.

"That's just what we need," The Doctor said, adjusting a screw. "More Sherlock in the TARDIS."

"Is there anything wrong with that?" Sherlock frowned, staring at the Doctor.

"Nothing wrong with that," The Doctor said, yet Sherlock couldn't help wondering.

* * *

In any case, the TARDIS inhabitants started to explain the story surrounding the Cardiff Rift, which left both Molly and Mickey dumbfounded. However, Molly attempted to ask some questions to clear up her confusion, wondering who Gwyneth was as well.

Telling the story about Gwyneth sobered up John and Rose somewhat. The Doctor and Sherlock, however, were more reflective, considering what Gwyneth had said about them.

They wondered what it meant, her prophecy about Bad Wolf, wars, and the laughing hyena men. But even so, this mournful mood couldn't dampen their spirits too much. Things livened up a bit as the Doctor suggested they go out and enjoy the day.

"Hey, Sherlock, come on!" The Doctor shouted, as the others got ahead of the pair, chatting and joshing with each other as they exited the TARDIS, leaving the Doctor and Sherlock momentarily alone. "Aren't you going to join us?"

"You go on ahead. I'll catch up in a bit." Sherlock said, already having gotten back to work repairing the TARDIS. "This could take a while."

"You don't want to get wrapped up in all of that mess, trust me. It takes years off of your life." The Doctor said, coming up to Sherlock and extending a hand to him.

Sherlock paused and glanced up at the Doctor. Meanwhile, John had hung back a bit to see what was taking Sherlock so long, and quietly witnessed this exchange.

"Come on, let's go get a bite to eat, my treat." The Time Lord said. "The TARDIS can wait. It's been waiting for centuries at times."

"But it's so important. I feel like it can't wait." Sherlock said. "I want to fix every little problem I see with this TARDIS so that I can enjoy it more. Explore new worlds and different times without any trouble. Relax and feel comfortable on these trips without bothering about everything falling apart."

Sherlock turned around and faced the Doctor. "How can you stand the disrepair and failures of this vessel when it could be so much more impressive and reliable? No wonder hardly anyone stays for long."

"Don't you know I feel the same way?" The Doctor said. "I want to fix and solve everything, too. But I can't do that or else I'll really ruin my health and probably destroy everything in the process." He joked.

"I have to pick and choose what needs to be solved or fixed at any given time. Sometimes I want to do everything all over again, pick a better vessel. But this is my home now and I can't change that. I have no choice in the matter." The Doctor said.

"What about me? Can't this be my home, too?" Sherlock said, staring up at the Doctor. "That's why I want to change and fix everything so that I can be more comfortable and settled down here for a long-term stay. I plan on being the person who stays and journeys with you the longest."

From his post, John inhaled sharply, surprised at how earnest and determined Sherlock sounded. If he had his way, Sherlock really would choose to travel with the Doctor forever.

But as for him…John really didn't know if he wanted to be stuck on the time and space traveling vessel forever.

Of course it all sounded perfect. But with the dangers and deadly threats they faced just about every week, John didn't know if he could stand being here full-term for the long haul. Especially when 'the long haul' might be cut dramatically short for both of them.

He couldn't stand it if something happened to him or Sherlock. He wondered if the Doctor felt the same way about Rose and the two fellows.

"Well, you still have a choice in the matter." The Doctor told Sherlock. "You can decide if you want to stay or go. You've got free will. Me, I'm sort of dependent on this old girl and she needs me more than anything else in the universe. So I stay because I have no choice, really."

"You do have a choice, but you won't let me help you." Sherlock said.

"Now come on, John and the rest are waiting for you. Isn't that right, John?" The Doctor asked, turning around to face him.

Sherlock looked up, finally spotting his lover close by. John quickly straightened, coming out from his hiding spot. He cleared his throat as he acted as nonchalantly as possible like he wasn't hiding.

"Right, well, we've got to go, places to be and all, you two coming?" John added, turning around and grimacing to himself as he walked out of the TARDIS, feeling embarrassed at eavesdropping like that.

Sherlock crimsoned slightly, looked up at the Doctor, and then laughed slightly. "All right, I suppose you're right for once. I do need to get out of here more. You coming?"

"Always." The Doctor said.

They all walked out of the TARDIS and into the Roald Dahl Plass, strolling along together, laughing, joking, and playing with each other, the whole TARDIS crew and their friends, too.

* * *

"I'm hungry. You hungry?" The Doctor asked.

"Famished." Sherlock said.

"You just admitted you're hungry!" John cried.

"It's not like it's a breakthrough." Sherlock muttered.

"Starving here." Rose said.

"Ravenous." Captain Jack grinned.

"I could go for some fish." Molly remarked.

Mickey Smith was checking his phone. "Hey, there's a good restaurant about half a kilometer away from here overlooking the bay in Mermaid Quay."

"Sounds like a plan, Rickey. Let's go!" The Doctor cried.

Mickey rolled his eyes, but they set off for the restaurant and managed to get a good long table over by the window with seating for seven people. The Doctor sat at the head of the table. Rose grabbed the spot to the Doctor's right as Sherlock grabbed the spot to his left, so that they were opposite each other.

John sat next to Sherlock, Captain Jack claimed the spot next to Rose, and so they were opposite each other. Captain Jack called for Molly to sit next to him and Mickey grabbed the last seat next to John, so that Molly and Mickey were opposite each other on the far side of the table from the Doctor.

As they waited for lunch to be served, they started chatting to each other and telling stories as the meal was served. When lunch started winding down, Captain Jack launched into an exciting story of a 6-foot tall monster with tusks that startled him and fourteen other naked people, which almost everyone listened avidly to.

However, the Doctor was distracted, considering what he and Sherlock had been talking about earlier with the TARDIS. He wondered if there was a way to…his eyes wandered, and he caught sight of a newspaper that a man was reading at a nearby table.

The others started laughing as Captain Jack described how he and the others freaked out and tried to run away with one of his friends tripping. Mickey finished off the joke's punchline about the left turn.

The Doctor stood up, walking over to the other table, startling Rose and Sherlock in particular, the ones closest to him, as the others were still distracted, listening to Captain Jack. The Doctor snatched the newspaper away from the stranger, disturbing him, as he muttered about having such a nice day before he showed the newspaper, and the picture of Margaret Blaine, to everyone else at his table.

"What?" Sherlock said, his blood running cold at the sight of his old Slitheen nemesis.

"Who is she?" Captain Jack asked.

Sherlock snatched the newspaper away from the Doctor and read the headline with John and Rose in particular leaning over his shoulders, reading it as well. The others hung back, a little more uncertain about what was going on here.

"She's the mayor of Cardiff?" John asked, shaking his head.

"Oh god, she's here now. Look at the date." Rose pointed at the dateline. "It's only been six months since Downing Street exploded."

"Downing Street? But-you mean, she's one of those aliens? Those farting aliens you all told me about?" Molly asked.

"Farting aliens? Oh, this sounds interesting." Captain Jack grinned.

"Oh god, not again." Mickey groaned. "I couldn't get the vinegar smell out of my clothes."

"How could this be? How could my brother and Harriet Jones allow this to happen?" Sherlock said, looking up at the Doctor.

"Your brother? Mycroft?" Mickey asked, looking up at Sherlock.

"Yes, Mycroft," Sherlock said, gazing back at Mickey.

Mickey had briefly met Mycroft when the man interrogated him, for Sherlock's laptop, with all the information about the Doctor and UNIT, had been left in Mickey's car by John and Rose. In that moment, Mickey suddenly remembered what he had promised Mycroft…

XXXX

"I could have you locked away for the rest of your life for stealing and spilling government secrets without a chance for appeal, so let's not make this any worse than it has to be, shall we?" Mycroft asked Mickey, smiling as he sat down before him.

"All right then." Mickey managed to say. "What's it going to take for you to free me?"

"A promise to be good, not to disclose anything of what you have learned, to rescind all of your testimony regarding Sherlock Holmes, Dr. John Watson, and the Doctor. And, of course, to keep a watchful eye out for my brother and both doctors, whenever they should return." Mycroft said.

"Do you want me to spy for you?" Mickey asked. "I could do that, you know. I could work for you."

"Don't push your luck." Mycroft said, studying the young man. "But yes, should the need arise, I want you on standby. Just in case."

* * *

Mickey grimaced now, wishing he hadn't said anything to Mycroft about spying for him. He had been so desperate not to be charged and imprisoned for a crime he had not committed that he had been willing to say or do anything then to be freed.

And now he feared that he might be implicated again for being involved with Mycroft when he hadn't done anything wrong. Why couldn't he do anything right? Why did everything have to go wrong for him? Sometimes he wished he lived in a different, better world for him.

Sherlock studied Mickey and shook his head, remembering what Mycroft had once said about Mickey 'cooperating' with him. Could his brother have gotten to and compromised the young man? It seemed possible, though it was unlikely at the moment to be relevant to the case at hand, as Mickey did not seem to be involved here.

"I never trusted Mycroft." The Doctor muttered.

"No, for all of his faults, he wouldn't have allowed this to happen." John insisted, glancing back and forth between the Doctor and Sherlock. "Not deliberately. And neither would Harriet Jones, his pupil. He wouldn't have allowed such a dangerous person to become mayor of such an important city without something being wrong…right?"

Sherlock frowned to himself. "I don't know. Sometimes my brother's motives are his own. Sometimes he does play underhanded games to find out something important. Using other people to catch larger bait, playing foes against each other, spying, things of that nature. He is the Iceman, after all."

"A con artist, huh?" Jack said.

"Family reunions must be hell at your house." Rose said.

"You both could say that." Sherlock grinned.

"Yeah, but a killer and manipulator like Margaret Blaine, or Blon Fel-Fotch Passameer-Day Slitheen, her real name? No, Sherlock, I don't believe your brother would even allow a thing like that to happen." John insisted. "Something must be wrong."

"My brother has been acting strange. It started several weeks ago when I tried calling him several times, but he wouldn't answer. And then when I got hold of him once, after Pete Tyler…he acted strange." Sherlock shuddered, remembering that day when he died and was brought back to life again.

"Pete Tyler? Your father, Rose?" Mickey asked, staring at his girlfriend.

"Tried to change history. Bad idea, didn't work out, universe nearly imploded." Rose sighed as Molly gaped at her.

"Time travel can be hell." Captain Jack remarked.

"I couldn't put my finger on it. He had not contacted or gotten to know Lestrade better. He had not found out any more information on Moriarty. Maybe I should have asked him more, but he cut me off. And I wasn't ready to question him yet then." Sherlock said.

"Sounds like a real mystery." Molly said, slightly intrigued.

"Do you think he could have been replaced by a Slitheen like the real Margaret Blaine and all of those other people?" Rose asked.

Sherlock shook his head. "It wasn't like that, not exactly. He knew enough about me and about everyone and everything else. He wasn't an imposter, he just acted…not different, exactly. Just a little bit off, more evasive than usual even for him. He was pushing me towards something when I had a moment of self-doubt."

Sherlock neglected to say that, at the time, he was rethinking whether it was right or wrong to continue traveling with the Doctor when it endangered him and John constantly. He wanted to avoid that topic now when, despite the danger, it was worth the risk.

And the Doctor had just been talking to him about leaving the TARDIS more often—perhaps he was trying to push Sherlock and John out so that they wouldn't get hurt? Both John and the Doctor hung on Sherlock's words, as if contemplating the implied statement that Sherlock wouldn't admit.

"Self-doubt? You?" Molly gaped at Sherlock. "When have you ever doubted anything?"

"I'm human enough, though I care not to admit it." Sherlock said, a thought dawning on him. "He was avoiding something he didn't want to allude to, maybe subconsciously so. It wasn't deliberate. Maybe it had something to do with Margaret Blaine. It had to be sometime in this time frame between now and Downing Street before."

"Or maybe it had something to do with Moriarty." John said, a thought occurring to him as well. "Margaret Blaine actually told us that Moriarty was involved in their plans, giving them the idea about destroying and selling off pieces of the Earth."

"Moriarty." The Doctor frowned, contemplating everything before he sighed and shook his head. "We're getting nowhere like this. We need to talk to Margaret Blaine, maybe capture her. Find out what she's doing here, what her plans are, and then we'll discover if she's had anything to do with Mycroft or Moriarty again."

"All right, I'm game for it!" Captain Jack cried, rubbing his hands together and grinning. "Give us some action! A little excitement and adventure."

"Can I join in, too?" Molly asked.

"I don't see why not." Rose grinned at her.

"Oh boy, this is going to be dangerous." Mickey said, shuddering as they started to leave the restaurant with the Doctor and Captain Jack in particular discussing attack plans.

"You all right, Sherlock?" John asked his lover, who was deep in contemplation, almost slipping into his mind palace.

"I'm fine. I'll try speaking with Mycroft soon after we deal with Margaret. See what he has to say, if he knows anything or is hiding something." Sherlock said.

* * *

Seems like a good stopping point for now, though I have more I can work on. Hopefully the next chapter comes sooner. See you later!


	27. Heart On Fire

Oops. In the middle of writing this chapter and watching the end of Boomtown, I realized that Margaret only revealed her real Slitheen name when she sat down to dine with the Doctor. And previous chapter, I had John mention her name-ah, well, I'll just pretend Margaret mentioned it in Downing Street for whatever reason.

Well, it's a new year! Doctor Who Series 9 ended and The Husbands of River Song aired, the last half and the Christmas special were excellent. Of course Sherlock: The Abominable Bride aired...while I can understand the faults in how the story was presented, I still really liked it a lot, especially some of the funnier bits...Fat Mycroft.

Hopefully I shall update more frequently this year and maybe get into series 2? Still wonder if I should make a new story with that.

* * *

Striding along together side by side, the Doctor, Sherlock, John, Rose, Captain Jack Harkness, Molly, and Mickey went up Cardiff's City Hall steps and entered the foyer, where they paused to gather themselves. Captain Jack launched into his spiel before the Doctor had a chance to speak, and assigned everybody to cover three exits while the Doctor confronted Margaret Blaine.

"The Doctor is Point One. I will cover Point Two with Molly here." Captain Jack grinned at Molly, who blushed. "Rose, Sherlock, you cover Point Three. John and Mickey, you cover Point Four."

"Why can't John and I cover a Point together?" Sherlock asked.

"Because you two would be making out faster than you can say Lionel Ritchie and I don't want any distractions." Captain Jack said. "Besides, I want to evenly distribute everyone so that the least experienced people on our team can have someone to help them out."

Mickey frowned to himself, also annoyed with this arrangement. The Doctor momentarily protested Captain Jack taking charge to assert his authority, but after a moment's deliberation, he agreed with Captain Jack's plan. After checking their mobiles and Jack saying, "See you in hell," they set off in different directions with Sherlock briefly glancing back at John.

Mickey hesitated, a little uncertain about what they were doing, but John grabbed him and pulled him along. "Come on, it's this way."

"All right," Mickey sighed, brushing John's hand off, but following him anyway. "Aren't you bothered about all of this or are you used to it by now?"

John shrugged as they walked along. "I suppose I'm used to it. I used to be an army medic in Afghanistan before I met Sherlock and the Doctor, so I can take orders from a commanding officer well enough."

"Really? I didn't know that. Was it hard? Did you get shot at or did you shoot anyone?" Mickey asked as they headed down a corridor.

John grimaced. "It was definitely hard sometimes. I did get shot at, wounded in the shoulder, along with a psychosomatic limp. That's how I got a medical discharge, and as for shooting anyone…well, it came with the terrain."

"Bummer. I hope you're all right now." Mickey said as they approached their exit point.

"Yeah, I've gotten better, especially with Sherlock." John grinned as they stopped and waited. "Jack was right, pairing us with Rose or Sherlock would have been a distraction. Leastways we can stay focused on the assignment and help each other out."

"You mean you help me out." Mickey shook his head. "I'm not a soldier or anything like that. This is slightly nuts for me, going off on an assignment like this, getting ready to charge into battle."

"It won't be a battle. We're just going to catch a culprit, that's all. You'll be fine, you might even help me out, being faster." John said.

"Maybe, but I bet you've been running around a lot, chasing after the Doctor and Sherlock." Mickey remarked.

Suddenly their mobile phones were ringing. Mickey and John answered theirs, and listened to a conference call of the Doctor announcing that Margaret Blaine was climbing out of a window and heading north.

"Oh god, are we north?" Mickey asked John, panicking.

John nodded. "Yep, better get moving!"

* * *

Meanwhile, Rose and Sherlock and Captain Jack and Molly had also been chatting with each other at their two respective exits when they got the call. They promptly hung up their phones and started running towards the doors.

Rose and Sherlock accidently knocked into a pair of ladies carrying papers, with Rose apologizing and excusing them as Sherlock simply shouted, "Out of my way!"

Captain Jack jumped over a tea cart, startling Molly who had been lagging behind him. She slipped around the tea cart instead, excusing herself and Jack to the attendant, who gaped at her.

Mickey raced around a corner and right into a janitor's cart with John slipping and sliding to a halt just short of a collision. John accidently grabbed a broom and Mickey got a wastepaper bin stuck on his foot as they extracted themselves from that mess, half-hobbling and running around.

"Hold still!" John cried, wedging the broom into the bin to pry it off of Mickey's foot.

"Thanks, mate." Mickey said, shaking his foot loose.

Meanwhile, the Doctor fought off the mayor's assistant on the balcony as Margaret Blaine, running across the parking lot, was confronted first by Sherlock and Rose coming at her. She growled at her familiar adversaries before turning around and spotting an unfamiliar pair, Captain Jack and Molly, coming at her as well.

Realizing she was being blocked off, though, she took off in the other direction, tearing off a green bead from her necklace. At that point, Mickey and John were running together with John maintaining a slight lead, still holding onto the broom. They exited the building just in time to see Margaret Blaine run past as the others caught up with them.

Mickey was berated by the Doctor, but John cried, "Oh, no, you don't!" as he lunged and swung his broom at Margaret.

She activated her teleport then, catching John in its field as well. "John!" Sherlock cried out in dismay, worried his lover was gone as well.

However, the Doctor used his sonic screwdriver to call back Margaret and John. They both reappeared, Margaret ducking a swing from John's broom before she turned around and ran off again. John went after her again with the broom and got caught up in her second teleport. Again the Doctor called Margaret and John back, and again Margaret and John, with an annoyed look on their faces, teleported away again, John still swinging as Margaret attempted to wrestle the broom stick away from him.

The others stood off to the side, somewhat appalled and amused at a Roadrunner cartoon brought to life as they watched the Doctor summon back Margaret and John again. This time John managed to give her a whack just before she surrendered the green bead to the Doctor.

"Was that really necessary?" Margaret Blaine asked John, annoyed as she rubbed her head.

"Just a little payback for hunting me and the others at Downing Street." John remarked.

"That was a good hunt." Margaret remarked, smiling and sickening John as well.

"You disgust me. That was a horrid experience." Sherlock said to Margaret as he came over, wrenched the broom away from John, and gave him a slight thump with the bristles. "Payback for worrying me." Sherlock told his beloved.

"Oh, you've done worse than that." John said, rubbing his sore spot as Sherlock then reached over and embraced John tightly, kissing him.

"Sorry for the thump. I couldn't help myself." Sherlock said.

"Ah, fine enough. Just don't do it again." John said.

"Ugh, gag me with a spoon." Margaret muttered, rolling her eyes.

"Oh, shut up, Margaret." Almost everyone chimed.

However, Margaret complained about the persecution she had received, despite her despicable deeds in the past, as they went into her mayoral office. She explained how she had gotten away from Downing Street's destruction as they examined the model of the nuclear power station that would be built in the heart of Cardiff. And the Doctor explained how that could destroy planet Earth.

"That's horrible." Molly shook her head.

"How could Mycroft and Harriet Jones not see any of this happening?" Sherlock cried out in frustration as Margaret's plans here in Cardiff were unveiled. "Even if it is in south Wales, it's practically in their backyard!"

"Calm down, I'm sure there's some logical explanation for this." John said, facing Margaret. "Even if Moriarty or Margaret manipulated matters here."

"Sometimes you can't always see what's going on in your backside." Mickey joked, which caused some withering stares to be thrown in his direction. "What? It's just on the map-" He looked down. "Sorry, I was just trying to banter."

"Not the best line you could have come up with." Captain Jack remarked.

"Although you probably would have come up with something similar, Jack." John said.

"I would have had a bit more tact than to mention it." Jack said.

Mickey frowned. "What's that supposed to mean?" He angrily asked Jack.

"Nothing, sorry. Forget it." Jack said. Mickey morosely muttered to himself, but he didn't say anything more to Jack as Molly and Rose in particularly glanced back and forth between the two of them.

"Moriarty? How do you know him?" Margaret asked, staring at them.

"You mentioned him to us back at Downing Street." Rose said. "Sherlock and John apparently ran into one of his clients some months previously."

"Nearly died because of it." Sherlock said.

"I see. I had forgotten." Margaret said.

"Who is he? A human or alien?" The Doctor asked.

"Does Moriarty have anything to do with your plans here?" Sherlock also asked.

"And have you and Moriarty manipulated Mycroft in any way?" John asked.

"Quite a lot of questions you all have here. I'm not sure if I can answer them all." Margaret said, eying them. "Suffice to say, I would need some encouragement to answer a few."

"Of course you do." Sherlock frowned.

* * *

Meanwhile, the Doctor and Captain Jack had discovered the Tribophysical Waveform Macrokinetic Extrapolator, which Margaret had planned to use to escape. "A cosmic surfboard? Now I know we've really gone beyond camp here." John said, which caused Jack, the Doctor, and Sherlock to smirk.

And the Doctor noticed 'Blaidd Drwg'-Bad Wolf. "Bad Wolf? Gwyneth told us about that." Sherlock said, as Rose and the Doctor both remarked upon all of the times they had seen and heard that phrase. "She saw it in our future." Sherlock said.

Sherlock said nothing more as he had experienced the same before, and had wondered if there might be more meaning behind the phrase. Perhaps not, yet he wondered if it was a signpost of some kind, a symbol or warning, possibly about the future? Yes, he could almost see it now…he approached the sign, studying the shape and symbol of the word in Welsh. Blaidd Drwg, Bad Wolf, it was coming towards them, closer than ever before.

"It can't entirely be a coincidence." John said as the Doctor tried to dismiss it. "I mean, even as common as the story or myth about the Big Bad Wolf might be, it's not like it pops up everywhere. Yet it does for us."

The Doctor scoffed. "Look, coincidences happen more often than you know. The universe doesn't entirely revolve around stories or narrative logic. It's just random happenstance or flukes at best."

"Says the Time Lord." Sherlock muttered to himself, grinning at the Doctor. "You might be the Bad Wolf, like the bad penny."

"Oh, give it a rest." The Doctor said, as he insisted they had to take Margaret Blaine back to her home planet Raxacoricofallapatorious to stand trial.

At once, Rose lit up as she attempted to pronounce the name herself, but stumbled a few times until she got it. "That has to be the most complicated name ever." Sherlock said.

"It can't be worse than Supercalifragilisticexpidalidocious." John said.

Everyone paused, eying each other for a moment as the words sunk in.

"Raxa-corico-falla-pa-torious…" Sherlock said, eying John and grinning.

"Super-cali-fra-gi-lis-tic-expi-ali-do-cious." John said, grinning.

"Raxacoricofallapatorious Supercalifragilisticexpidalidocious." John and Sherlock started singing to each other, dancing around in a circle with their arms linked as their friends fell over laughing a little.

However, the celebratory mood dimmed a little as Margaret mentioned her home planet had the death penalty. "Will you let me go if I tell you who Moriarty is? What sort of crimes he and his friend have committed?" Margaret asked.

"Friend? What sort of friend are you talking about?" The Doctor asked, staring at her.

"I can't very well tell you that unless I have your guarantee of my freedom." Margaret said, grinning.

"We won't let you go, not after everything you tried to do to destroy Earth. But we might ask for a more lenient sentence." Sherlock said.

"You won't get it, not for me." Margaret scoffed. "My sentence was passed, it's final. The death penalty has never been lifted for anyone on Raxacoricofallapatorious. So I won't tell you."

Sherlock frowned, angry as he realized how close he was to finding out about Moriarty and what had been done to Mycroft, and she wouldn't tell him. But the Doctor said, "Let it go. She's not worth it."

"I might be, though. You never know." Margaret grinned as they escorted her out of the mayor's office and managed to get her back to the TARDIS, while Sherlock fumed.

There she marveled over the time travel vessel as the technology of the gods. John frowned to himself as he watched how lasciviously and covetously Margaret examined her surroundings, obviously wanting the power and force of the TARDIS to get her safely off of the planet and away from her death.

Luckily, though, she couldn't acquire it now, not when the Doctor and everyone else was watching and keeping her away from the controls. She wouldn't gain control of this vessel, not if they had anything to say about it.

Sherlock in particular had gotten pretty possessive of it, John had noticed. And that conversation Sherlock had with the Doctor, John understood why he felt that way now. But John also wondered if that was the best thing in the world, for Sherlock to keep holding on to the TARDIS and not letting go of it, if he and Sherlock could break free of it and live on their own without the Doctor or anything else getting in their way. Part of John wanted to try living that way, without the TARDIS.

"You certainly couldn't understand her." Sherlock badgered Margaret, striding up to her. "But myself, I've learned a lot about this ship, helping the Doctor fix her up."

"Really? Helping me? You were having a lot of trouble with her this morning." The Doctor said.

"On a general basis, I'm very good with the TARDIS." Sherlock said.

"Half the time, I'm the one doing repairs on here." Jack said.

"You said we should blast the ship once." Rose added as Molly, Mickey, and Margaret smirked.

"And another time, you said-" John began.

"All right! Fine! On a general basis, I do have problems with the ship, but I still love it very much." Sherlock said, crimsoning.

"We just wanted you to stop boasting, Sherlock. It's unbecoming." John said, lowering his head with a sinking feeling in his heart. Sherlock wasn't ready yet to give up traveling like this.

"I'm just telling the truth." Sherlock said, glancing at his partner. He knew something was wrong.

"Really? Well, I bet you have learned a lot." Margaret said, glaring at him. "A puny, weak-minded human like you."

"That's not fair, he's quite smart for a human." The Doctor said as some of the others stared at him.

"Madam, my mind is much larger and grander than anything you can possibly imagine." Sherlock said. "You're the one who's small-minded, lying to, torturing, and killing people. It's no wonder you can't escape planet Earth without destroying it or someone like Moriarty helping you along. You don't have the guts, imagination, or intelligence to come up with anything so brilliant as this ship, the finest in the universe. Not like we do."

"I'm touched, Sherlock. Really I am." The Doctor said as the others nodded. John looked away, not quite feeling the same right now.

"You've got a lot more to learn about this universe, my boy." Margaret said, staring around at them. "All of you do. Those big britches you're wearing will dwarf and swallow you whole."

"Margaret Blaine, I've seen and done more things than you can possibly imagine in my 900 years-" The Doctor said.

"I know you have. I've heard some stories." Margaret said, facing him. "I know how smart, brilliant, and cunning you are. I know that you've been involved in some serious business, including the Time War. But that is nothing compared to what's ahead."

"What's ahead?" Sherlock asked as the others stiffened, nervous and angry.

"Wouldn't you like to know." Margaret grinned.

John groaned. "We're getting nowhere with this back and forth business."

"I agree," Sherlock said as talk turned to Margaret being a prisoner with the others uncomfortable at being her executioners.

* * *

Both Mickey and Rose exited the TARDIS in short order, with the Doctor turning on the monitor as soon as they were both outside. "Really? You're actually going to spy on them?" John gasped, exasperated.

"That's not exactly fair." Molly said.

"What? I was just checking up on them to see if anything was amiss." The Doctor said.

"We're in Cardiff, not in some deadly swamp. You're turning into my big brother. Turn off the monitor." Sherlock said.

"Fine. I definitely don't want to be Mycroft the Iceman." The Doctor said, switching off the monitor as Rose and Mickey walked off together.

"The Iceman, I always hated that nickname for him." Margaret said, shaking her head. "He might be cold and calculating, but he still has some weaknesses to exploit."

"What do you know about my brother?" Sherlock asked, rounding on Margaret as the Doctor, John, and Captain Jack pulled him back from her.

"Release me, and find out!" She insisted, retreating from the angry look in his eyes.

She sat down on the edge of the platform alone as John, Sherlock, and everyone else gathered around the console, examining the instruments as the ship refueled.

"Calm down, Sherlock. We'll find out what we need to know from her." The Doctor said.

"I hate her with every gut and fiber of my being." Sherlock said.

"Don't we all." John muttered.

"She's annoying, I've got to admit, and I barely know her." Captain Jack said.

"What are we going to do?" Molly asked, looking around at everyone.

Margaret started talking to them about waiting, running, and consequences, as they worked and then they all started laughing at how she wound up on the skip near the Isle of Dogs. Next she made her last request, a final meal at her favorite restaurant, goading the Doctor and the others about their strong stomachs. Molly in particular felt sick.

"Who knows, I might actually feel talkative for a start." Margaret said, eying them.

"When haven't you stopped?" John muttered, causing the others to laugh as Margaret frowned.

She challenged them and Sherlock in particular felt keen to accept her challenge, in case she let anything important slip about Moriarty or Mycroft. However, the Doctor backed down, feeling a restaurant visit might be too dangerous for other people, disappointing the detective. Was the Doctor trying to play it safe, not wanting them to get hurt? Did he trust himself to protect them?

But then Jack suggested he should try handcuffing Margaret with special cuffs that would zap her with 10,000 volts if she did anything wrong. Now Sherlock's eyes gleamed, itching to get out there, and though John was nervous, the Doctor was inclined to follow through, especially if the detective got the idea to try handcuffing and interrogating Margaret himself.

He didn't trust Sherlock in that moment, and he trusted himself less. But at least with witnesses and bystanders present, there might be a chance they wouldn't do something terrible to Margaret and they would be more alert for any signs of trouble from her.

The Doctor invited Margaret to dinner, and Sherlock volunteered to accompany them, with John jumping in to make sure everything was all right. "No, thank you," Molly grimaced, shaking her head. "I certainly wouldn't want to go."

"How about staying here and helping me out to fix the TARDIS?" Captain Jack asked Molly, pointing at some of his tools. "I could do with an extra pair of hands, and certainly medically trained, professional hands like yours."

"All right, I will," Molly blushed, while the others grinned slightly.

* * *

So the Doctor, Margaret, Sherlock, and John all went to dinner together, talking politely and conversationally along the way while keeping their eyes out on what Margaret was doing. At the restaurant, they settled down to eat, and Margaret attempted a few deadly tricks, but the Doctor foiled her each time. Margaret frowned while Sherlock and John giggled amongst themselves.

Back at the TARDIS, Captain Jack and Molly worked diligently alongside each other, though they kept flirting back and forth with each other. Molly thought he was sweet and she was intrigued to know more about this time-traveling flyboy from the future. But she was also a little hesitant about being swept up and away in this romance when it didn't feel real and sincere to her.

She had her heart set on Sherlock, but that had been broken slightly when he got together with John. Though she was recovering nicely and wished both the boys well on their new life together, she wasn't ready to give in and contemplate traveling together with them on the TARDIS when that would just be a reminder of what could have been. Captain Jack was a part of that other life, and so she resisted his charm for now and concentrated on the work at hand.

Meanwhile, Margaret described the gross, horrid detail of what the death penalty on Raxacoricofallapatorious entailed, which sickened John somewhat. "Well, couldn't we try to arrange something more…" He hesitated to say more.

"What? Something more humane in order to kill me in exchange for information on Mycroft and Moriarty?" Margaret scoffed. "No, that won't do. Death is still death, no matter how you try to soften the blow."

"Exactly." The Doctor said, and argued that Margaret had caused her own share of death in the past.

Margaret pleaded for a second chance to change and live an ordinary life, that she had spared a victim today. Sherlock and John listened to her and the Doctor argue in relative silence, eating their food slowly as they contemplated the philosophical debate involved.

"Has your outlook on life really changed?" Sherlock asked Margaret, staring at her. "Do you understand what you did wrong? Do you feel guilt for your crimes in the past?"

"Of course I do." Margaret said. Sherlock shook his head, seeing the flicker of a lie in her eyes.

"And even just now, you tried to kill the Doctor and the two of us." John insisted. "You haven't really changed."

"I'm just trying to defend myself from the likes of you. A cold-hearted crew willing to do anything to save this planet and universe and having fun while doing it, at the expense of others like me." Margaret said. She insisted the Doctor was a vengeful, devastating god as Sherlock and John contemplated her words.

Were they really so devastating? Were they guilty of the same crimes that Margaret had committed? Though it seemed hard to imagine, there had been a lot of death and destruction as well…suddenly, they felt the shocks of an earthquake rocking the city of Cardiff, and the windows in the restaurant cracked and shattered.

The Doctor realized it was the rift, and they raced out of the restaurant and back toward Roald Dahl Plass, where an eerie blue light was shining up into the sky. Along the way, Sherlock and John tripped with the Doctor and Margaret not noticing them falling behind. The couple looked up in time to see a wall falling towards them, but then they were shoved out of the way by another man.

"Thank you very much-Captain Jack?" John asked, staring at the man standing before them. "What are you doing here? Shouldn't you be back at the TARDIS with Molly?"

"I'm just-I'm-" Captain Jack stammered, staring at John and Sherlock instead with a sort of incredulous, awed expression.

Sherlock, however, was staring at the former Time Agent with a different appraisement, observing all of the noticeable changes and differences in Captain Jack's appearance and stance. "How long has it been since you've seen us?" Sherlock said.

"A very long time, Sherlock." The older Captain Jack said, staring at the detective, his former friend.

"What? But we just-" John started to say.

"Do you know what the Doctor would say if he saw you interfering in past events?" Sherlock said, eying the captain.

Jack, commander of Torchwood Three in Cardiff, grinned. "He wouldn't say anything if he never knew."

"Exactly right. Thank you for saving us, and we best be on our way before the Doctor ever knows." Sherlock said, getting up and tugging at his lover. "Come on, John."

"But-wait a minute-" John said, gaping at Jack as he realized what was going on here.

"Hold up. I just want to say, thank you for everything, and I miss you all very much." Captain Jack said, saluting Sherlock and John.

Sherlock and John saluted him back. "Thank you, Jack. I'm sure we'll miss you, too. And I hope we get to see you again in the future." Sherlock said, nodding and smiling.

Captain Jack nodded, smiling as he said, "Beware Torchwood," before he turned around and walked off, turning up his overcoat collar.

"Beware-what the hell is going on here?" John asked, shaking his head in dismay.

"Time travel can really be a tricky business." Sherlock remarked, filing away the future Jack's warning for another day. "Come on, let's go before we're missed. I certainly don't want to explain this to anyone right now."

"Neither do I." John muttered. They raced off after Margaret and the Doctor, who had gotten pretty far ahead. The column of blue and green light had broadened even further, covering the sky.

* * *

Back at the TARDIS, Molly yelped at the sparkling and crackling going on as the young Captain Jack ran around the frying controls, telling her, "Don't panic, we won't catch on fire, I hope. Everything will be okay!"

"What's going on? Why is everything shaking-" Molly turned her head and stared at Margaret's device. "The extrapolator!" She cried, pointing at it. "I think it's activating!"

"Aw, nuts, Margaret must have booby-trapped the damn thing." Jack said, annoyed. "Knew it was too good to be true. We've got to remove it."

Molly tentatively reached for it, then snapped her hand back as another circuit fried. "Careful, it's got a mind of its own, much like its owner." Jack said.

Said owner, Margaret, and the Doctor arrived back at the TARDIS a few seconds later. "Where's Sherlock and John?" Molly asked them, raising her head.

The Doctor, panting, glanced back at the door. "They were right there behind us when we left. I hope everything's all right."

Rose reached Roald Dahl Plass just as Sherlock and John did. "What's happening?" Rose yelled at the pair as they ran down the steps.

"The rift's opening, and I'm sure we know who to blame!" Sherlock cried as the ground cracked beneath their feet as they crossed the Plass toward the source of the blue light, the TARDIS.

"This is insane!" John cried, stumbling and jumping over one crack after another to avoid falling again.

"I know!" Sherlock said as the trio reached the TARDIS door and burst in, all together in a heap.

As they ran up the ramp towards the console, asking what was happening, suddenly Margaret shed the human skin covering her arm and a giant Slitheen arm whipped its way through the air and wrapped itself around the three human throats of Sherlock, John, and Rose. The Doctor, Jack, and Molly lurched forward, but Margaret told them to step back, threatening their friends.

"So embarrassing." Sherlock choked out even with her Slitheen arm pressing against him. He hoped that he wouldn't die this way.

Margaret expositioned like a true villain as the Doctor warned her about the Heart of the TARDIS, while everyone else stood there, not certain what was going to happen. Jack and Molly retreated, trying to find a way to save their friends, while the other three struggled and tried not to pass out.

"Heart of the TARDIS?" Sherlock mumbled, not quite believing it was possible. He thought he knew everything about this ship after the months he had spent on it, helping the Doctor to repair it.

Suddenly, the TARDIS console burst open in a brilliant light that flooded the dark room and blinded everyone, especially Margaret and the three people in her grasp. The light was directed straight at Margaret, who was trapped, entranced as she stared at it in awe, smiling with joy.

Rose, who was the next closest to the light, squinted and tried to stare at it, though she couldn't see anything. She thought she heard a voice whispering to her in some half-forgotten language she almost recognized and howling, screaming, crying, laughing, such a loud cacophony.

Sherlock thought he heard a voice singing, almost as beautiful as his violin, and he closed his eyes, taken away and transported for a moment to another time and place. John inhaled and exhaled, trying to calm himself down as he felt goosebumps shivering up and down his spine, his whole body was electrified and filled with this intense heat, pain, and pleasure.

Margaret had let go of the trio, and they dropped to the ground, momentarily out of the beam and radiance of the light. They shook their heads, the memory of the experience fading a little, yet it was still affecting them, deep inside.

The Doctor was talking about the soul of the TARDIS, and Sherlock wanted to believe it now. Margaret vanished in an instance and the Doctor leapt into action, shouting at his friends not to look as he shut off the console and it closed up. Everything crackled again, but then it calmed down, back to a semi-normal state.

"Are you all right?" The Doctor said as he, Jack, and Molly came over and helped Sherlock, John, and Rose up onto their feet.

Though they said they were fine, Rose was still bewildered, John was shivering, and Sherlock frowned to himself as he attempted to piece together and recall his experience. He wanted to remember and experience it all over again, but not even his mind palace could access that locked door. At which point they noticed the egg that Margaret had become, and the Doctor explained the situation as best he could while the others marveled and laughed at the outcome.

Rose ran off to find Mickey, which concerned John and Molly in particular as they knew and liked him, but Sherlock remained distracted and distant as he walked over to the console.

"Translate dreams and desires…" Sherlock mumbled, touching the heart of the ship through the console, glancing up at the column. "Is that what you are? A truly magical ship?"

"Are you okay?" John asked, coming up and touching his lover's shoulder.

"I'm fine, I'm just…thinking. That's all." Sherlock said, still staring at the ship as John shivered, wanting this night to end.

* * *

I was really, really hoping to finish Boomtown in this chapter, but it's getting a long already. There's a little bit left and some extra I'm adding on, and then I shall launch straightaway into Bad Wolf-no cuts or detours or deviations, going to finish the Series One version of this story in short order as soon as I can. Catch you later.


	28. Creating Truth Like Glass

Unfortunately, we're not going to get new Doctor Who until December 2016 and 2017, and even so, it'll be the last series for Steven Moffat before Chris Chibnall takes over...sigh. Maybe it'll be okay, but not certain what the future will hold. Except I shall try to finish up my Series One version of Sherlock, John, and the Doctor, and start Series Two sometime this year.

You know, part of me had been wondering if there would be some sort of announcement soon about Series 10, as I figured Moffat and the BBC would be planning stuff these past couple of months after the holidays. I also figure Sherlock Season 4 might have also played a role in these decisions, as Moffat and his team might have to write and produce the show, if they haven't already gotten them written. So we'll at least have that to look forward to next year. Anyway, idle speculation on my part.

* * *

After searching for nearly an hour, going everywhere that she and Mickey had walked to that evening, Rose slowly walked back to the TARDIS, finally giving up on finding him again. If he was alive, and god, she hoped that he was, he probably didn't want to see her again.

Maybe he had decided to head back to London on his own. What was the point in searching for him if he wasn't there at all? If he had moved on and started dating Trisha Delaney, because…god, she had abandoned him, more times than she could count.

He had always been there for her when times got rough, and he had come to see her when Jimmy Stone had abandoned her. They started dating then, but the first time she got the chance to do something great and leave her old life behind her, she had jumped at the chance. And left Mickey to deal with the consequences of her actions.

Mickey had told her that evening about what happened to him, about the interrogation he had received from Mycroft and the police. Rose apologized profusely, again, for the ill-treatment he had received, because she had gone and vanished without a trace. But it still didn't excuse the fact that she had left him and her mum again after that. She was always leaving them behind, never really looking back until now.

It was his choice to leave her, just like it was her choice to continue traveling with the Doctor, Sherlock, John and Captain Jack. For a moment, she halfway considered leaving as well. Let them continue on without her, they were just fine on their own. It was probably better if she stayed behind and tried to mend things with her mum and best friend before it was too late.

But then again, she couldn't leave them, especially the Doctor, and all of the wonderful adventures they had together, even with the danger. She-Rose hesitated to say the thought coming to her mind, the idea that she cared for the Doctor more deeply than he could ever know.

And she knew that he couldn't possibly feel the same way, it wasn't in his nature. But she was falling for him like mad. He was gorgeous and splendid, everything they did with their friends was fantastic and mad, but she knew that it couldn't last forever. They couldn't get away with it, not forever, and one day…Rose hesitated to think about the future.

It's funny, time traveling, you never really think about the future, about cause and effect, what might happen next when next day is tomorrow and Tuesday is the past, unless it's the other way around. Rose laughed to herself thinking that, it was something the Doctor might say. God, she was thinking like him, it was hopeless.

Still, she found herself back at Roald Dahl Plass, walking back up to the TARDIS. Back to her friends, her family, her jailers, her inmates, for they all were in the madhouse together and she was trapped in there with them. She paused for a moment, thinking she was being watched, but she didn't see anybody standing around before she entered the time vessel.

Of course, she couldn't see somebody if that person was standing up on top of the Wales Millennium Center, the lines CREU GWIR FEL GWYDR O FFWRNAIS AWEN (Creating Truth Like Glass From Inspiration's Furnace) and In These Stones Horizons Sing, inscribed below him. Captain Jack Harkness, commander of Torchwood Three, grimaced as he watched Rose leave.

He almost wished that he could go down and talk to her, just like he did with Sherlock and John, but that was an accident and tricky enough to handle. Rose wasn't always the most deceitful of persons, he seemed to recall, a poor liar and concealer of truths. Especially compared to Sherlock and John, who weren't dishonest, but they could hide the truth well enough to fool even him and the Doctor.

He missed them all so much. He wished that he could tell her…no, he couldn't say a word at all. That was for her to find out. Jack slipped away then, not wanting to see the TARDIS leave again. It hurt more than he could bear to see it go without him, even if he was still in there. Time travel really was tricky and heartbreaking.

* * *

Inside the TARDIS, Molly hung around, mostly waiting for Mickey and Rose to return to see if they were all right as she watched the Doctor and Jack mess with the console. She hoped that nothing bad would happen to it again, like it did with Margaret's extrapolator and everything exploding. She spoke mostly to John about how everything was at St. Barts, Mrs. Hudson, Lestrade and the police, a bit of distraction from what was troubling them.

Sherlock remained preoccupied, almost in a dreamy daze as he contemplated the TARDIS, smiling and chuckling to himself on occasion. He ignored everything else, like he did on those occasions when he slipped into his 'mind palace', but this time was different, perhaps worse.

He wasn't acting like himself, almost as if he had been infected or affected somehow by that glowing light. Perhaps this was what he was like when he was high or drunk. Molly had never seen him like that, though she knew about his past from working with Lestrade and Mycroft, who had visited her once to explain the situation with his brother.

That was concerning enough, but John shivered and shuddered almost involuntarily as he talked to Molly, though he ignored those feelings and tried not to fret about Sherlock's condition. Yet Molly could see the fear and despair in his eyes as he watched his lover in such a devolved, degenerative state.

It was at that moment that Molly realized how much traveling with the Doctor had changed her friends, which frightened her more than she could say. This night had utterly convinced her that she did not want to ever get involved with time travel. She just hoped that she could get off this TARDIS before something malfunctioned again and she was trapped on there as it sped off into time and space.

"Are they okay?" Jack asked the Doctor, noticing the strange behavior of John and Sherlock in particular.

The Doctor looked up, glancing at the others with a slight frown. "They should be fine in a short while. The effect should only be temporary, if they haven't been hit with the full force of that beam."

"If you say so." Jack turned to the Doctor. "The TARDIS is almost fully charged. Rose and Mickey have been gone for a while-"

"They'll be back. Or at least Rose will. She wouldn't leave, not like this." The Doctor said, though he was worried for a moment.

Sherlock shook his head, coming out of his stupor at this note of concern from the Doctor, which troubled him as well. Rose was important to the Doctor, more than he could say, and if anything should happen to affect that relationship, it would have an ill effect on all of them. No, it was better for Rose and the Doctor to stay together, if only for the sake of others as well.

Luckily for Molly and Sherlock, Rose did return, albeit alone. She was heartily greeted by everybody, yet she remained low-key and diffident, almost depressed. That was troubling and Sherlock figured something must have gone wrong with Mickey to make her feel that way.

In fact, she sounded absolutely regretful and wretched as the Doctor talked about Margaret's second chance at life, something that Rose wanted as well. Perhaps she was reconsidering everything, which distressed Sherlock as well. He had to think of something to keep her here.

Molly, meanwhile, said good-bye to everybody with some relief at being able to leave. Sherlock, though, practically ignored Molly as he shook her head and wished her farewell. He wasn't really paying attention to her and her reactions when he was still contemplating everything.

"Sherlock, you git." John shook his head and told Molly, "We'll miss you very much. Thanks for being there for us and bringing all of our stuff."

"No problem." Molly said, smiling. "I'll miss you all, too."

Molly was used to that and accepted it as much as she was able, though it still hurt a little inside. She waved farewell, breathing a sigh of relief once she was outside of the TARDIS. She walked off, looking back only once, as the TARDIS vanished behind her. Then she was alone in the middle of a devastated Cardiff, walking back to the train station to head home.

* * *

Moriarty called the Master, grimacing as he explained the situation. "It's a disaster here, mega trashed. The Rift almost tore the whole city apart before it quieted down. And you are over there with the TARDIS! We could have gotten out of this time loop quandary and gone anywhere with all of that Rift energy spewing out if you had come over with me."

"I couldn't come. I have important business to handle over here and Cardiff was always your pet project. Technically speaking, the Rift would have torn the whole planet apart. I still could have used that energy, expelled from Cardiff, here in London. The radiation travels far enough, though it is quite unstable." The Master said.

"You would have gone and left me here with the whole planet exploding?" Moriarty cried.

"I might have made some effort to save you for all of the help you've been." The Master said. "But I didn't want to risk losing the TARDIS by attempting to travel on such unstable energy currents. The Rift has already shut down, the energy's gone now, so that's that."

"Right, if you say so." Moriarty frowned. "No sign of Margaret. According to her secretary, someone matching the Doctor's current incarnation stormed in, demanding to see her, and chased her out of the building."

"Well, sounds like Margaret is not going to be a part of our plans anymore, which is a relief. I always hated the Slitheen, nasty and vile, yet not our style."

"But they were so much fun. I thought they suited us well." Moriarty smiled and then paused as he saw someone walking along. "Can I call you back? I have someone in my sights. Not a main target, just a minor one, though with an interesting tangent."

"Well, have fun. Call me when you get some results." The Master said, hanging up.

"Will do." Moriarty said, attempting to perk up his features to a more normal, though stricken appearance as he staggered out and nearly plowed into Molly. "Ah! I'm so sorry," He said, helping her up. "You okay?"

"It's all right, I'm fine. What about you?" Molly asked, concerned.

"I'm fine, just a little bit shaken up. What a disaster." Moriarty shook his head, smiling at her. "Jim, by the way."

"Molly. Nice to meet you." She smiled at him.

"Too right, likewise." He said.

* * *

Sherlock and John headed to their room, tired after the evening's events. "Bloody hell, are you sure it's a good idea not to tell the Doctor about…future Jack?" John asked, glancing around, not wanting anyone else to hear.

"What would be the point of it? Might cause more damage than good, especially when we probably shouldn't have met him." Sherlock said.

"What about Torchwood? Jack warned us about it, whatever it might be."

"Torchwood, I could have sworn we-" Sherlock snapped his fingers, remembering. "It's one of those classified, top-secret agencies we came across, researching the Doctor first time around. Probably similar to UNIT."

"Can't entirely be good if Jack warned us to avoid it. Do you think your brother knows about it?"

"Of course he does, he keeps apprised of all the top-secret government agencies. He set up half of them, after all. It might even be his own pet project." Sherlock frowned. "We need to see him soon and find out what he knows and what's wrong with him."

"I'm sure he's all right. It can't be all that bad." John sighed. "We'll see him after going to Raxacoricofallapatorious."

"That's another thing, Margaret Blaine or whatever her name was, she said she heard stories about the Doctor. Do you think she could have known something about the future?"

"Captain Jack said something like that as well, back in the Blitz. He said he knew about the two of us and the Doctor together." John frowned to himself. "No one else specifically."

"At least it's a sign of sorts that we should be traveling with the Doctor for a while, right, John?"

"Right." John said, though he wished he could tell Sherlock that he would rather not stay on the TARDIS.

"Ah, wait a moment, John," Sherlock said, stepping away from his lover. "I think I need to find and talk to Rose for a moment. I'll be back soon." Sherlock turned and walked away.

"Take your time, I'll be waiting." John said, walking into their bedroom and closing the door.

Inside their room, technically John's room as Sherlock had moved in here, John stopped and stared in astonishment. The room had changed since the last time he had been in here-they now had a fireplace, with a roaring, though fake, holographic fire, and a mantelpiece that Sherlock's skull now rested upon-just like Sherlock had wanted.

"Oh no. He really did convince the TARDIS to comply with his wishes." John groaned, thumping his head down on the mantelpiece next to the skull. He then raised his head, staring at Sherlock's old nemesis. "I'm never going to get him out of here, am I? We're stuck in this godforsaken time traveling vessel." He groaned again.

* * *

As Sherlock prowled through the TARDIS corridors, he reviewed everything that had happened in the past couple of days, and noticed a worrying trend. More and more, John seemed distant and upset, as if troubled or disturbed by some development.

Was it possible that John was reconsidering his position on traveling with the Doctor? Sherlock knew that he was the one who had first insisted on their travels, that John had just gone along with it to appease Sherlock as he fell further in love with him. But he had hoped by now that John was satisfied enough with their expeditions.

Yet if John and Rose were both changing their minds about traveling on the TARDIS…Sherlock shuddered to himself, wishing that he could convince them both to stay, for the Doctor's sake as well as his own. He wasn't being entirely selfish, wanting to travel with the Time Lord and see all of time and space, for the Doctor needed the companionship as well after everything he had suffered in the past.

What would the Doctor be like without John and Rose? Sherlock knew the other two companions made him feel more amenable and friendly. Sherlock couldn't possibly imagine the Doctor would just want to travel with him and Captain Jack alone without some kind of buffer zone, as the three of them had such prickly personalities with their own dark sides.

The Doctor might very well kick them out, like he did to-what was his name? The Anderson boy who was not Anderson? And then where would the Doctor be without anyone? Just as bad, if not worse, than he had been before?

Sherlock was determined not to let that happen, after all of the changes and improvement the Doctor had undergone. He would try to convince Rose and John to stay, and-suddenly, Sherlock's mobile rang. Sherlock checked the number, surprised to see it was his brother.

"Hello, Mycroft, what can I do for you?" He braced himself for the encounter.

"Sherlock? Are you hurt or injured? Is everyone else on the TARDIS crew all right?" His brother sounded worried, even more unusual for him.

"I'm fine, we're all fine. You're calling about Cardiff, right?" Sherlock tried to play it cool, knowing that Mycroft might still be trying to fool him.

"I just heard about it, the earthquake and lights in the sky. Immediately I thought about that rift you and John had warned me about. What happened?" He sounded genuine, worried and scared. This wasn't the Iceman Sherlock knew. This was his brother, yes, even more vulnerable than he ever was before.

"The rift nearly exploded, which would have destroyed the entire planet, all thanks to Margaret Blaine and one of her nefarious schemes."

"Margaret Blaine the Slitheen? I thought she was dead, like all the rest." He was stunned and ignorant, he didn't know.

"Margaret Blaine was very much alive, she had escaped. And what's more, she was mayor of Cardiff."

"Mayor of Cardiff?" Mycroft sat down in a chair, Sherlock could hear. "Mayor of Cardiff, how is that even possible? We would have known."

"You did know, or at least you must have found out about it at some point, but then you forgot." Sherlock said, considering the possibilities. "You did know, but then you forgot."

"No, it's not true," Mycroft murmured. Sherlock could imagine the sweat on his face, how pale his brother was.

"Mycroft, you need help. I'm coming for you now." Sherlock said, hanging up his mobile.

He stormed off, back to the TARDIS console room, where the Doctor and Captain Jack both remained situated, examining the status of the vessel and its power supply. They both looked up as Sherlock charged in, as determined as ever, and the Doctor could already guess what Sherlock was about to say.

"My brother's in danger. I believe that he has been manipulated, maybe even brainwashed or coerced by Moriarty."

"Is that even possible?" Captain Jack asked, eying the Doctor and Sherlock.

"Mind control? Yes, it's very possible and real. It's not something that a lot of humans are capable of. But if Moriarty is alien or has been hanging out with aliens, then maybe he knows a trick or two." The Doctor said, eying Sherlock. "Why are you coming to me?"

"I've read the files. I know how good you are at deprogramming or helping others who have been brainwashed. Maybe enough to snap them out of it?" Sherlock asked.

"I'm a little out of practice. It's been years since I've done anything like this. But for you and your brother, yeah, I suppose I'll give it a go. Don't expect miracles, though." The Doctor said, turning a couple of switches and knobs and pulling on the parking brake lever as he programmed the TARDIS to travel to Mycroft's office.

* * *

Surprisingly, they arrived straight there, with Mycroft even more astonished as the TARDIS suddenly materialized right in his office. He attempted to spruce and smooth himself out, knowing who he was about to meet again, yet he couldn't disguise the discoloration and dishevelment of his appearance.

The last time Mycroft had seen his brother face to face was just after the Slitheen assault on Downing Street. Ever since then, Mycroft had been unintentionally avoiding Sherlock, though he kept in touch with him through calls and texts, learning about all of the changes and updates with him and the TARDIS crew.

It wasn't something Mycroft had meant to do, but somehow he…how had this happen? Mycroft wondered. Was there really something wrong with him he wasn't aware of?

He couldn't believe it, for it wasn't possible with how well he took care of himself and always managed to stay on top of things here in the UK and abroad. But if he hadn't been aware of Margaret Blaine the Slitheen, who had threatened him, his brother, Lestrade, their friends, and everyone else, becoming the Lord Mayor of Cardiff, then what else was slipping through the cracks without him being aware of it?

Could it be possible that he was being controlled or manipulated by someone else he didn't know about? What if the mysterious Moriarty had him under his or her or its thumb, like a puppet?

Mycroft didn't want that loss of control, which threatened not just him, but everyone and everything else he was responsible for. If there was any way to reverse this change in him, to reassert his dominance and gain back his freedom and self-control from those who would try to manipulate him, then he would do anything. Even submit to the Doctor's scrutiny.

The TARDIS doors opened after a moment, and Mycroft glimpsed Sherlock and a strange man stepping out, a fellow he assumed to be this Captain Jack Harkness he had heard Sherlock speak so highly of. But right now his attention was focused entirely on the Doctor, who was front and center as he marched out boldly, staring Mycroft right in the eyes.

For some reason, Mycroft was strangely captivated and enthralled by the Doctor's gaze, not even moving or speaking as he just stared at the Doctor, who came right up to him. The Doctor gently, but firmly, pressed Mycroft to sit down in a reclining position in his office chair. Captain Jack and Sherlock stood off to the side, shocked at how completely the Doctor could hypnotize someone and how willingly Mycroft acted.

"Is he okay? Are there any problems?" Sherlock asked.

"Yep, Mycroft has got a mind block or two all right." The Doctor said, still attending to his patient. "Make take a few days to completely unwind all of the mess that's been made in here. Someone went to town trying to keep your brother in check."

"I knew it. Can you do anything for him?" Sherlock asked.

"I can start the process, force Mycroft to confront the worst of it. That will loosen their control of him." The Doctor focused all of his attention on Mycroft, closing his eyes as he concentrated, probably communicating telepathically with him.

Sherlock and Captain Jack stood to the side, uncertain about what they could do, and shortly Rose and John came out, wondering what was going on and surprised to learn about what had happened and where they were. John was especially concerned, and quietly questioned Sherlock if he was all right as he tried to reassure his lover.

Finally, after several long minutes, almost half an hour, the Doctor slowly came out of his stupor, shaking himself off. Mycroft, meanwhile, relaxed even more, closing his eyes and falling into a deep sleep.

"Is it done? What happened?" Rose asked as John came over to check Mycroft's vitals.

"Oh, hello," The Doctor smiled at John and Rose, unaware they had both come out. "Well, Mycroft should be better now. He'll have to recover on his own, but with any luck, he should be able to resist any more of their control."

"He seems to be fine enough, physically speaking. He's just resting." John said.

"Will he remember anything about what they tried to make him forget?" Sherlock asked.

"Bits and pieces, mainly. His memory should slowly return, but it will take time for him to recall exactly what happened to him and who was responsible. I'm afraid we won't find out anything more about Moriarty or whoever did this to him anytime soon."

"That sucks. They'll get away with it." Rose said.

"Not entirely, I'm sure, if Mycroft remembers anything. He'll have his revenge." Sherlock growled.

"Could you tell anything about the people or persons who might have done this to Mycroft through whatever they did to him?" John asked.

The Doctor hesitated. "To be honest, I've seen this sort of handiwork before, but it's not possible. Unless…well, it could be the training or style was similar."

Sherlock arched an eyebrow. "Training? Style? Do tell."

"No. I'm not sure I'm ready yet." The Doctor said, stomping off back towards the TARDIS before anyone else could say anything. "Come on, we've got to get Blon Fel-Fetch Passameer-Day Slitheen back to Raxacoricofallapatorious before she hatches."

Captain Jack shuddered. "Certainly don't want her imprinting herself on us. She might be calling us mummy and daddies." He raced back to the TARDIS as well.

Rose hesitated, but followed after the other two as Sherlock and John lingered a moment, watching Mycroft sleep soundly. "Do you suppose we'll ever know?" John asked, staring at Sherlock.

"Yes. Even if I have to force the Doctor to talk myself." Sherlock said, striding back towards the TARDIS as John followed after him.

The TARDIS soon dematerialized, the sound of its vanishing disturbed Mycroft momentarily as he shifted in his sleep. But he soon fell back into his slumber, dreaming of Lestrade, oddly enough.

* * *

So the Doctor's avoiding something that I'll deal with later. And Bad Wolf is next! Yeah! See you soon!


	29. Reality Show

**Reality Show**

Short chapter for the start of Bad Wolf, but hopefully a lot of fun.

* * *

"Euuh," Sherlock muttered, shifting in bed. It was a tight, narrow space, though, and he was wrapped up close against-wait a minute. That wasn't John.

Sherlock's eyes snapped open just as the Doctor's did, and they screamed as they fumbled against each other, trying to get away and stand up in a small closet lined with mirrors. Where were they, how the heck did they get here, and why the hell were they together without John, Rose, or Captain Jack Harkness?

Suddenly, the closet door opened and they fell out of it on top of each other. "Oh, God, two new housemates?" A woman cried, startled. Some loud techno music was blaring, a nauseating noise that didn't help their upset stomachs and disorientation. Was there something else in the background?

"Get off of me!" Sherlock shouted, pushing the Doctor off. "You've heavy."

"You're the one who was getting handsy!" The Doctor cried. Then he started to sag and the woman caught him, and helped him up.

"I thought you were John." Sherlock said, shaking his head to clear out the spinning sensation. "Where am I, and why is the room so disgusting?"

Two other people stood off to the side, watching the situation unfold and complaining about the rules changing. Sherlock glanced around, studying the room's layout, the electronic surveillance, and futuristic touches that didn't exactly point to his early 21st century time period. And there was a humming noise too that he couldn't quite place, though he almost recognized it.

The woman, explaining their temporary memory loss and disorientation, mentioned something about a Transmat, definitely not his time period if it was teleportation. The exit also seemed to be barred, so were they trapped here? It was one of the worst prisons he had ever been in.

"The decorators on this show, they've really got the eye motif going. Big Brother's always watching you." The woman grinned. The eyes were everywhere, including the eye in the sky.

"Yes, Mycroft usually is. How did you know that?" Sherlock asked, managing to stand up on his own.

"Big Brother's a reality show. Don't you ever watch telly?" The Doctor asked.

"I aspire not to. Big Brother is a reality show?" Sherlock asked, glancing around as he leaned against the wall for support. "Must be my brother's favorite if he ever cared to watch as well." There was an imperceptible vibration as well, a familiar one.

"Yeah, I can see that." The Doctor said.

Suddenly an electronic voice shouted at the Doctor and Sherlock to go to the Diary Room, so shrill that it hurt Sherlock's ears. The woman helped escort them there, another closet-sized room barely large enough for both Sherlock and the Doctor.

"Do we really have to do this?" Sherlock asked.

"It's mandatory. Otherwise, you might get a penalty vote." The woman said.

There was only one really red chair in the room that reminded Sherlock of the red chair on that Graham Norton show John and Captain Jack loved so much.

"I hope this one doesn't flip over." Sherlock said, and the Doctor laughed.

"Can I get you guys anything? Coffee or tea? Maybe water if your stomach's a little queasy?" The woman asked, about to close the door.

"Tea." Both the Doctor and Sherlock said, settling down as best they could, fighting over who got to sit in the chair.

"I'll have it out and ready for you two when you're done. Good luck." The woman said, closing the door.

"She seems nice. Hope she doesn't vote us out or however this show works now." The Doctor said. He got the red chair in the end, and Sherlock wound up sitting on the floor.

"Are you actually accepting this?" Sherlock asked. He could feel the vibration even on the floor, and there was that hum again. He could almost place it.

"No, I'm not. I want to get out of here and find out what's going on. But to do that, I suppose we'll have to play along with them for now. Unless-" The Doctor fished around in his leather jacket, but his face fell. "I suppose they must have taken it."

"Actually-" Sherlock said, pulling out the sonic screwdriver from his own coat.

"What? How did you-" The Doctor frowned and said, "Never mind. I already know."

"I wasn't handsy." Sherlock insisted. "And I think we're not on Earth at all. We're in some kind of space station."

* * *

Meanwhile, Rose woke up in a daze as well, though it turned into a nightmare of sorts as she was faced with the Anne Droid on The Weakest Link. She couldn't believe this was happening to her, and the only thing she could think of was this had something to the Doctor, Sherlock, John and Captain Jack Harkness.

She almost half expected them to come out of the shadows and shout, "Surprise!" Giving her a big cake to blow out the candles in celebration of-how many months she had been traveling with the Doctor and them, probably almost a full year now. Wow, time really did fly, even when you were a time traveler.

She remembered a week or two ago how disheartened she was after Mickey left her in Cardiff, and she almost felt like giving up traveling with the Doctor. Yet soon after they stopped by Mycroft's office to un-hypnotize him, or whatever the Doctor had done, Sherlock had stopped by to pay her a visit.

"You okay?" Sherlock asked.

"I could very well ask you the same question." Rose said. "It's not every day you see a family member going through such a harrowing experience, am I right?"

"Yeah, I suppose it's a shock. But Mycroft will live and surely recover. He's made of strong, stern stuff, I have to admit." Sherlock said, sitting down on the couch across from her in one of the TARDIS lounges. "He's not one to give up and back down from a fight. He'll mend."

Rose nodded. "Good for him. I hope you're right."

"What about you? Are you okay? When Mickey didn't come back with you and Margaret held us captive-not to mention that Heart of TARDIS light-" Sherlock shuddered slightly. "I mean, that had to upset you, right?"

"What are you on about?" Rose asked, looking up at him.

"I mean are you okay…traveling with us still?" Sherlock asked.

"I'm here, aren't I?" Rose said. "I'll admit I had a moment of doubt. I was upset about Mickey and he brought up some good points about how I'm never around and I don't see him or Mum as often as I should."

"You might have an obligation to them, but you have an obligation to yourself as well." Sherlock said.

"I know, but I'm being a little bit selfish, and you're probably selfish as well for wanting me to stay on so that the Doctor doesn't get upset-"

"I'm just concerned, that's all." Sherlock said.

"Right." She eyed him critically. "Well, in any case, I still want to travel with the Doctor, and you, John, and Captain Jack to a lesser extent. You're all still my friends and I wouldn't miss traveling through time and space for anything." She sighed. "Especially with this group of people."

"But the Doctor more than anything." Sherlock said.

Rose smiled. "You got me there, as you always do."

"Right, well, for what it's worth, you've been a friend to me, John, and Captain Jack as well. I know we would miss you very much if you ever chose to leave." Sherlock said, looking up at her. "I won't forget all of the adventures we've had together."

Rose smiled. "Me neither. You're all the best to me, too."

Rose felt that way very much, and right now, standing there in the futuristic television studio, she wished that they were there with her. Especially the Doctor.

* * *

John groaned as he came to, lying flat on his back. "Where am I?" He asked, blinking blearily in the bright white room.

"That sweater has got to go. It's contemptible that a handsome middle-aged man should dress up like he's already a grandpa." A harsh electronic voice remarked, though he couldn't see where it came from clearly. The lights shining above his head blinded him.

"Giving up on the dating scene already or settling down does not mean your standards should slip as well." Another similar voice said as a pair of figures started to resolve slightly into the form of a pair of female androids.

"Don't take my sweater. It's my favorite." John muttered, horrified as he tried to get up and get away. He practically fell off of the flat bed he had been lying upon.

"Whoa, John, are you okay?" Captain Jack said, bending down to help John up.

"I can't feel my legs. What's happened to me? And where are the rest? Sherlock, the Doctor, Rose?"

"It's okay. I don't where they are or where we are, except that it looks and sounds a lot like 'What Not to Wear'."

"Oh god, I hate that show. And why do they have robot Trinny and Susannah?" John asked, pointing at the androids.

"I don 't know. Must have gotten a revival somewhere down the line." Captain Jack said, examining the situation as the robots continued chatting. "But wherever and whatever this is, at least you're here with me in the same predicament and we'll both get out of here."

"Yeah, that doesn't help me very much." John said as the robots brought out the defabricator.

"Defabricator? Oh no, no-" John said, but it was too late. The robots had switched on the machine and suddenly John was standing there stark naked right next to Captain Jack in front of a television audience.

John froze and tried to cover himself up with a shirt from the rack. But Captain Jack stood there proudly displaying himself as he discreetly examined John.

"Well, I can see what Sherlock sees in you." Captain Jack grinned.

"Shut up right now! This isn't very funny!" John insisted, though he blushed slightly as Jack grinned at him.

Then Jack turned his attention to the robots and the television audience, and John gaped at him. "Are you actually flirting with robots? And the television audience?"

"What? I'm just working my charm to get us out of here quicker. You should try it, too."

"I'm not that desperate yet." John said, attempting to side-step the robots to get out of here.

However, they both blocked his passage and menacingly advanced towards. "Where do you think you're going?"

"I'm just-" John started to say.

"He just wants to get a good look at the clothes on the rack so that he can see all of the available options and what suits him best." Captain Jack said, stepping forward to defend his friend. "I think he was also interested in getting some more clothes to choose from, just in case he doesn't find anything that suits."

"I'll get some more clothes. You two stay put." One of the robot hosts said, gliding off, as the other stood still, practically guarding the two fellows.

They breathed a sigh of relief. "That was close. Thanks, Jack." John said.

"Any time." Jack grinned and told him, "Now let's just play around here for now and then see what we can do."

"All right, I'm game for it." John nodded, bracing himself for the makeover of his life. Where was Sherlock now?


	30. Trapped in Big Brother

This is slightly short, or at least it focuses on one area of this episode. But I felt like expanding thematically about some of the ideas, notions, and symbolism brought up in this episode, according to some of the critics/reviewers I've read. Because this is really a complex episode, below the surface.

* * *

**Trapped in Big Brother**

"Space station," The Doctor said, examining their situation as Sherlock pointed out the various signs.

"That hum and vibration in the ground, they both come from the engines and generators, don't they?" Sherlock asked.

He had been on a few space stations since he started traveling with the Doctor, including Platform One and Satellite Five where the Jagrafess lived. With that experience, he had learned a little about such operations and now he was able to recognize the workings of such a large vessel floating through space.

"Yeah, that sounds about right." The Doctor nodded, and used his sonic screwdriver to try scanning their surroundings. "But why would they have Big Brother filming up in a space station, made to look like a regular house?"

"Why would they have all of those news networks broadcasting out of Satellite Five? I suppose they just want to expand their reach globally, maybe even universally." Sherlock shrugged and said, "I'm not a part of this time period and I'm certainly not like these people. I'm not into this reality show business. It's hypocritical, cheesy, and it makes people look bad when they're awful to begin with."

"Not all of the people who get into these shows are awful. Like that woman we just met?"

"Then they just become the hopeless victims and foils for the more scathing, immoral, but entertaining contestants." Sherlock said. "Characters created for a TV show."

"You might be right sometimes, but occasionally they get the chance to succeed. And these reality shows can be quite entertaining for the audience when they want to stave off boredom." The Doctor said.

"You're a time traveler rambling around in space. What can be boring about that?" Sherlock asked.

"There are some long, boring hours when I've got nothing to do and nowhere to go. So I like to keep on top of entertainment and diversions from different times and places." The Doctor looked up at Sherlock. "You can learn a lot about people from what entertains and enthralls them. Gives them a chance to live for something more, or a distraction from their ordinary lives. What hopes and dreams they might have, you know."

"I suppose that's true, especially of the more artistic, personal, pleasurable, or meaningful nature." Sherlock said. "But when it's just a distraction or diversion, a step up from boredom, and contributes to the more meaningless and pointless friction of life, then you have got to wonder—what is the point of such entertainment?"

"If it can give people hopes and dreams, even a sliver of a chance to succeed, to one lucky person, then maybe it's worth something. Not much, but something." The Doctor sighed, shaking his head. "Can't get much of a reading from here, it's shielded. But definitely top of the line technology and machinery for-hmm. Interesting."

"What?" Sherlock asked, recognizing the Doctor's curiosity and intrigue.

"The time period, it's-" The Doctor started to say, when the Diary Room door automatically opened without the Doctor and Sherlock touching anything.

"You done in there?" The woman who had first greeted them poked her head in, smiling at them.

Molly, Sherlock realized the woman reminded him of Molly in her own special way, perhaps that desperate, hopeful cheerfulness and perk hiding something deep beneath. Why did she remind him of that?

"I guess we are," The Doctor said, suspicious as he walked out of the Diary Room and started scanning all over the Big Brother house, and attempted to find a way out of there without success.

Sherlock followed in his footsteps and scanned their surroundings as well, perusing various items and looking into corners. He even checked the walls for any sign of weaknesses they might be able to exploit for getting out of here.

The other two housemates, Crosbie and Strood, hung out in their corner of the house, mostly mumbling to themselves and glaring whenever the Doctor and Sherlock came by them. Sherlock and the Doctor ignored them for the most part, concentrating on their task. The woman, Lynda, followed them around like a puppy dog, curious and excited.

This was a television set, after all, and though the house's interior was well-made, despite its poor aesthetic design-the eyes still made Sherlock shudder and wince, especially with the swirling galaxy in the middle of some—he was certain it could not be impenetrable. However, there were deadlock seals everywhere, whatever that meant, but not even the Doctor's sonic screwdriver could penetrate and unlock them.

"Aha, at last! So there really is a weakness to that thing?" Sherlock asked, regarding the sonic screwdriver.

The Doctor glanced down at his device. "Yeah, of course. Although I thought you wanted this thing to be invincible?"

"Well, not everything's perfect." Sherlock shrugged. "At least a weakness proves the sonic screwdriver is viable enough to be real and attainable for someone like me."

"What, are you thinking of creating your own?" The Doctor asked and then balked at the look on Sherlock's face. "Oh, no." He slapped himself on the forehead. "Me and my big mouth."

"And your big ears. That might be a challenge." Sherlock grinned.

"Don't you dare try to make a sonic screwdriver!" The Doctor cried.

"Challenge accepted! Some other time when we have more time to create one." Sherlock said, laughing, and then the Doctor was laughing as well.

"You two are crazy." Lynda laughed and shook her head.

"Crazy is one word for it." Crosbie grumbled with Strood nodding.

"Oh my dear, craziness is a requirement when traveling with the Doctor." Sherlock remarked.

"And Sherlock Holmes as well." The Doctor said.

"You're got me there." Sherlock said.

"Well, not a requirement, but definitely a benefit if you've got to deal with the sorts of things we deal with on a daily basis." The Doctor added.

"True, true, and intelligence and creativity as well." Sherlock said.

"Resourcefulness and endurance, don't forget those." The Doctor said.

"Speed is a strength." Sherlock said.

"You've got that in spades, you and—John, Rose, and Captain Jack." The Doctor sighed.

"We'll get back to them, don't worry about that." Sherlock said. He didn't want to worry about that either.

"Sounds exciting." Lynda said.

"It definitely is." Sherlock smiled at the Doctor, who laughed a little.

Exoglass window panes covered most openings, unbreakable, and the walls turned out to be solid steel or some type of heavy metal, perhaps the space station's hull? Sherlock groaned after a while, annoyed with their situation.

"Why do they have such security in a place like this?" Sherlock asked. "It's not like people are clamoring to get out, or trying to break in here. I mean, we're on a space station even. We're isolated from the rest of the world or universe."

For a moment, Sherlock's eyes alighted on a bright, garish painting he had passed by several times of circles in the middle of squares, a sort of bright orangey-reddish-purplish painting. The image was familiar to him somehow, though he couldn't put his finger on it yet.

"Quite isolated in front of millions." The Doctor said, glancing at a camera. "What a funny situation to be in, and familiar."

"It's necessary for them, the people who own and create these shows." Lynda murmured. "We can't get out and no one can get in. We're trapped here."

"Lynda, don't talk like that." Strood said, shaking his head. "We're supposed to be cheerful, you know that. Keen for challenges and all that sort of thing. Good for morale and viewing figures."

"Trapped? The same way we were?" Sherlock asked. "With the transmat?" The Doctor frowned to himself, tapping his sonic screwdriver.

"No one volunteers for this." Lynda said, staring at the camera. "Except for maybe them, the people who run these shows. But perhaps they're trying to avoid getting sucked into them as well."

"Lynda, I'm warning you, you're going to get us in trouble." Crosbie hissed.

"That's disturbing." The Doctor said, glancing at the camera. "But familiar."

Sherlock hated being trapped here in this godforsaken television show without John around to alleviate his mood. Where was he? His eyes lingered on that painting once more.

The Doctor was no help, concentrated on his task like Sherlock had been. He was getting angry and upset as well with each failure.

Sherlock wondered if this was what he was like as well when investigating a frustrating case. He wondered why John could ever put up with him like this.

Lynda with a Y introduced herself and explained a little more about their situation while the Doctor tried to reassure her she wouldn't be voted out.

"Why would no one ever tell you that you're sweet?" Sherlock said, glancing at Lynda. "Not even your mum?"

"Well, it's not much of a benefit in this world." Lynda said.

"You've got that right." Crosbie said.

"Ugh, why would anyone want to be in this stupid, asinine, boring television show?" Sherlock asked, facing Lynda and the Doctor. "No wonder they force and drag people up here. No one volunteers. I haven't even seen it, and I already know that it's bad."

"Are you joking?" Strood asked, both he and Crosbie appalled.

Lynda lowered her head, not saying anything more, as the Doctor suddenly remembered what he and the others had been doing before they were stolen away. Sherlock listened to the explanation and slowly nodded, remembering bits and pieces of what the Doctor had revealed.

Personally, he and John had retreated for a snog in their bedroom when they were snatched up into the bright lights. They had practically been dragged away from each other, their hands gripping each other tightly before they slipped apart and vanished.

Sherlock shook his head, wishing for a moment that he didn't remember such an agonizing moment of being torn apart from his beloved. But he would get back to John, find out what had happened to them, and reunite with all of his friends if he could.

"Your friends, they were all with you? They were taken, stolen?" Lynda blanched.

"That's bad luck." Crosbie muttered.

"I heard once there was a whole family taken when they wanted to liven things up a little." Strood said.

"Yeah, but they should be here somewhere on this space station, anyway. How many other shows are there up here?" Sherlock asked. When Lynda told him the numbers, Sherlock blanched. "For god's sake, why are there 60 Big Brother shows? Who needs that much Big Brother? Why are they recording and broadcasting them? Is this some kind of torture?"

"The worst kind." Lynda said.

"Oh, hell, we need to get out of here." Sherlock muttered, shaking his head. "And get the others out as well."

For now Sherlock would have to settle for being with the incompatible Doctor. The Doctor also insisted something was wrong, emphasizing how strong such a teleport beam had to be to penetrate the TARDIS and bring them all here.

He looked at the camera, calling out the people responsible for bringing him and the others here. Sherlock frowned to himself and studied their surroundings again, as if some clue as to the teleport's origin and unnatural strength could be found here.

That painting again, what was up with that painting? It was driving Sherlock crazy for a minute.

"There's nothing that advanced in this time period?" Sherlock asked, facing the Doctor. "Nothing alien?"

Crosbie and Strood looked at Sherlock and the Doctor askance, now curious.

The Doctor shook his head. "No, this period's technology is too primitive for apes and aliens alike to achieve such a strong teleportation. And the power requirement would be so astronomical that the space station can't possibly generate it. It has to come from another source, maybe another time period."

"Why are we talking about other time periods?" Lynda asked, shaking her head. "What's going on?"

"We're time travelers, the Doctor, me, and our friends." Sherlock told Lynda, frustrated enough that he was willing to blab about everything. "We come from different time periods. John, Rose, and I came from the start of the 21st century. Jack is from the 51st. And I don't know what time period the Doctor's from, if it's even in one, but-"

"Sherlock, will you please shut up?" The Doctor groaned. "We can't give everything away."

"Oh my god, this is a disaster." Crosbie groaned. "I'm stuck in the crazy house."

"But that would be ages ago. Ancient history. Back in the 21st century, when Big Brother started-" Lynda gasped, staring at the Doctor and Sherlock. "You really don't know, do you? How the game's played now?"

"What's the difference?" Sherlock shrugged. "It's just a pointless exercise to demonstrate how well a contestant can perform under pressure and—no?" He asked, seeing the disturbed look on Lynda's face.

"You die when you get voted out." She said, causing the Doctor and Sherlock to look at her in horror. "All the game shows and reality shows are like that now. You die if you lose, and you live if you win."

"There's no outside to this world, this reality." Strood said, a little philosophical now.

"But that's-" Sherlock's eyes snapped wide open as he put all the pieces together. "Oh my god. But why are they doing this? Why go to such elaborate efforts to create a-"

"A charnel house." The Doctor practically shouted.

"Right. What possible reason could anyone have for doing anything like this?" Sherlock asked.

"To alleviate boredom?" The Doctor said, dully staring at Sherlock for a moment.

Sherlock met the Doctor's gaze, confronting a shadow of his past in that moment. "Oh no. Not for that, never for that. Or at least not on such a wide scale."

"Why not?" The Doctor asked.

"We may both have a low opinion of humanity on certain scores, but this is not just a wholesale slaughter for fun. There is something devious, devilishly wrong here, but it's not just people who are responsible for this." Sherlock said.

"No? You sure?" The Doctor asked.

"People can be cruel and mean, but malicious in this manner? No, not always, and not everyone. There is a monster in their midst who has orchestrated this whole thing. Who has planned and worked everything out, forced people to play along with its schemes, so that it can…" Here Sherlock hesitated, trying to work out what was going on.

"Work a long game to take control? Through their television sets?" The Doctor said, glancing up at Sherlock. "Guess where we are. I'll give you a hint—we were here a hundred years ago."

Sherlock stammered and groaned. "This is Satellite Five?"

"No one calls it Satellite Five anymore. It's the Gamestation. Ever since-" Lynda gaped at the Doctor and Sherlock. "Were you here when it shut down?"

"You're right, Sherlock." The Doctor tried to reassure him. "I don't think these people are entirely responsible for what's happening here. But they're playing along with it, hoping to survive and make it through. They're victims and accomplices of these games, not just the contestants, but the programmers and the people watching at home. They're being manipulated by a more diabolical force than anything they can possibly imagine. Yet they still play."

Sherlock looked up at the Doctor, staring at him. "Rose, John, and Captain Jack are still out there somewhere. Still playing if they've survived this long."

"We'll get them out." The Doctor vowed. "Just like we'll get everyone else out if we can. We'll find the monster and destroy it, just like we always do."

"So how do we get out of here?" Sherlock asked, glancing around at everyone. "We need to be voted out, don't we?"

The Doctor glanced up at Sherlock, surprised, as Crosbie scoffed. "You can't be voted out. New housemates are safe from the vote."

"How did Linda with an I got out?" The Doctor asked, grinning. "Damage to property."

The Doctor took out his sonic screwdriver, flipped it, and Sherlock joined him. They both gripped the sonic screwdriver, aimed it at a camera, and fried it. The Doctor and Sherlock laughed together as the housemates looked at them, horrified.

"Are you sure this is such a good idea?" Sherlock asked.

"Best one we can come up with right now." The Doctor said. "Especially if someone deliberately brought us here for a reason."

"That's right, targeting the TARDIS." Sherlock slowly nodded. "Out of all the people and vehicles traveling through the universe, they chose us. Snatched us out of the time vortex even."

"Yeah, only something powerful and capable of time travel can do that." The Doctor frowned. "Question is, what or who?"

Sherlock studied their surroundings once more, looking for a clue or just saying good-bye to it, when he saw that painting again. Really saw it as if for the first time, directly opposite the exit. As Crosbie, Strood, and Lynda talked to the Doctor, telling him good-bye half-mournfully, Sherlock approached the painting in mounting horror and trepidation, analyzing it fully in reference to the image in his mind palace.

"Doctor? Can you come here?" Sherlock asked.

"What?" The Doctor asked, approaching him. "What's wrong?"

"Do you see that painting? Do you see what's on there?" Sherlock asked.

"It's just a…painting…" The Doctor said as the image seared in his mind matched the image on the painting. "No. No, no, no."

"What's the matter?" Lynda asked, worried.

"But it fits, doesn't it?" Sherlock asked. "It fits with everything we said about monsters controlling this situation."

"No, it doesn't. It could just be a fluke or someone who saw one of them once decided to paint this picture, casting aside the memory of them."

"But it can't be a coincidence. Nothing can be a coincidence here." Sherlock said, staring at his surroundings. "I mean, look at the eyes! Look at the glowing blue eyes, just like their stalks!"

"No!" The Doctor shouted, and then the Davina droid was heard over the loudspeaker, calling out the Doctor and Sherlock to leave.

Sherlock and the Doctor looked at each other, nervous, but they managed to remain stoic as they stepped out through the front door into the small chamber. They waited as the countdown proceeded, aware that they were being watched not just by the contestants, but by millions, billions on Earth and beyond.

Then the countdown stopped, and nothing happened to them. The Doctor remained excited and happy, using his sonic screwdriver to unlock the outside and interior doors to the chamber, but Sherlock was nervous.

He couldn't help thinking…what if it was the Daleks they were dealing with here? What if it was as bad as it seemed?

The Big Brother door opened, and Lynda appeared in the doorway, framed in front of that painting of a Dalek's shell. Sherlock shivered to himself with a premonition. She was just another victim. She would die if they faced the Daleks.

The Doctor invited Lynda to join them, and though she hesitated, she decided to get out. The others stayed behind, too afraid to make a move, even when freedom was offered to them. Like tame rabbits trapped in a hutch.

"This is a nightmare," Sherlock said, following Lynda and the Doctor outside the game, into one of Satellite Five's familiar corridors.


	31. Stripped Naked

Finally got around to finishing Bad Wolf and starting Parting of the Ways...

* * *

**Stripped Naked**

"You don't play tennis. Why do you need a tennis outfit?" John asked.

"What? I can take up a sport if I want to. Besides, these shorts look pretty flattering on me, don't you think?" Jack asked, modeling. Even one of the robots squeezed Jack on the bum.

"They look fine enough, but they're totally unnecessary." John said, glancing through the clothes rack for about the fifth time.

It was the only thing he could do at this point in this bare, yet glaring room with the robots standing guard over him and Jack and the cameras with millions watching, but not helping. There was no way out of here as far as he could tell, just that one door with the robots and the defabricator gun standing between them and it.

He figured that thing could be a more powerful weapon than just taking off clothes. He felt absolutely alone and vulnerable in that moment. Not even Jack seemed to understand what he was going through, so he was cut off from help. He wished Sherlock was here, and yet he didn't want him to see as well.

"We're not playing games here, you know. We're investigating and maybe we're going to have to run soon." John said under his breath.

"I know." Jack added for John's benefit.

"These shorts are also excellent for running if you're into that." The Trinny droid said.

"You're not helping." John said.

"Lighten up. Otherwise those bags under your eyes are going to start taking control." The Susannah droid added.

"I absolutely adore the bags under my eyes and I'm not willing to part with them." John snapped to annoy her.

"Suit yourself." Trinny said, ignoring him for now. Then Jack and the droids started talking about cosmetic surgery.

"Seriously, cosmetic surgery?" John asked, staring at Jack. "You look fine just the way you are."

"Thanks, but I could always do with some tightening around the edges." Jack said, winking. "I'm not getting any younger, after all. Time to take care of my body."

"I absolutely know what you mean." One of the robots said, examining a creepy, sharp array of instruments on a stand that gave John the shivers.

"I think you take care of it fine enough." John said, then shook his head as Jack laughed. The other man was getting to him.

Now the robots used the defabricator gun again, stripping John and Jack down to their birthday suits with John desperately trying to cover himself up as Jack proudly grinned. Then the robots turned around and presented them with clippers and chainsaw hands, ready to extinguish them. John quivered a little and found it easier to cover himself as Jack suddenly reached around and—where did he get that gun?

John gaped at Jack and tried to examine him closer, then shook his head and looked away as Jack fired and destroyed the robots. Jack laughed and danced around in front of the camera, celebrating freedom as John quickly grabbed his clothes, which had transported onto the rack after being defabricated.

"Enough already!" John said, throwing Jack's clothes at him. "Let's get dressed and get out of here." John quickly rushed behind a screen to dress himself.

"What, can't we run around here naked?" Jack said, though he dressed himself as well. "I wouldn't mind that."

"I know you wouldn't mind, but I do." John said, zipping up his pants. "This whole thing has been so humiliating, a complete invasion of my privacy." He was silent for a moment, trying to recover himself and not cry.

"Hey, I'm sorry, John." Jack said, throwing on his shirt. "This shouldn't have happened. None of it should have. I was just trying to put on a good face for the show. But at least we're okay. Now we're going to get out of here, find Sherlock, Rose, and the Doctor, and maybe stop whoever's responsible for this."

"I hope so. Are you dressed?" John asked on the other side of the screen, trying to steel himself.

"Yep," Jack said, eying the defabricator gun as John came around from behind the screen, feeling better, though still a little nervous and self-conscious. "I have an idea, though, about how we can repurpose this thing."

"As a weapon? Yes, I wouldn't mind that." John said, straightening up a little bit as he tried to regain his self-confidence, full of a simmering anger. "I claim it, though. You can keep the compact laser deluxe."

"All right." Jack nodded, and got to work fixing the device with John watching.

Once it was ready, Jack detached the weapon from the stand, handed it over to John, and they both left the studio and found themselves in somewhat familiar surroundings to John. John glanced around, uncertain if he could believe his eyes. Was this really Satellite Five? Then he and Jack spotted the Bad Wolf Corporation sign.

"What the hell is going on here?" John asked.

"No clue, but we'll find out." Jack said, walking off and tapping on the screen of his vortex manipulator's computer. "Two hearts, that's the Doctor. Need to find an elevator-"

"There's one that way." John pointed down near the end of the corridor. "If I'm right, then this place is or closely resembles a place me and the others have been to before. And that was also a broadcasting satellite, although they did news, not reality shows when I was here."

"Well, maybe times changed," Jack said, leading the way and John was right.

John gripped the defabricator gun tightly to steady himself as they rode up the lift. Hopefully they would fix things or straighten everything out or else he might feel like using this weapon. He hoped it wouldn't come down to that. The Doctor would be so ashamed.

* * *

Not much had changed here in the past 100 years, except for everything. The Doctor told Lynda the story of Satellite Five and used his sonic screwdriver to get a fix on some readings, an abnormal amount of power and secret transmissions were being broadcast by the space station.

"You know what this could mean?" Sherlock asked, thinking about the Daleks.

"Shut up, it's not like that." The Doctor said, aware of his theory.

"I hope you're right." Sherlock said.

Lynda asked if she could join them and the Doctor almost immediately agreed, which surprised Sherlock. It made him think for a moment of how, not so long ago, the Doctor might have adamantly refused to let anyone join him before he was softened up a bit by Rose, Sherlock, and John. Mostly Rose and John, Sherlock felt, for that friendliness between him and the Doctor seemed to have been slower in coming.

There were already so many people abroad the TARDIS that it was starting to get crowded, even for such a large vessel. How could Lynda fit in there with them, in the group dynamic they had already established, unless…no, Sherlock didn't want to think about that. The Doctor wouldn't dump them, not now.

Then Lynda revealed the Bad Wolf logo to the Doctor and Sherlock, which shocked them even more. Sherlock pondered this and said, "Are you sure it's not Daleks?"

"No." The Doctor said as firmly as he could, though Sherlock questioned his response.

They went into the computer observation room to search for the others and the Doctor and Sherlock got their first look at the new version of Earth, which also shocked them a little. Lynda didn't mind it so much, for she had grown up with this Earth, after all, a brutal society that was normal for her. No wonder being sweet didn't matter so much.

Surprisingly the Doctor knew a lot about this Earth at first glance, which made Sherlock ponder just how much the Doctor could instantly pick up about a place and any changes to it through his travels in time and space. Did he have some sort of mind palace as well, more advanced than Sherlock's? That was a little scary.

Suddenly the door opened and the trio turned around, prepared to meet guards, but instead—"Sherlock!" John cried, tossing his defabricator gun at Jack and running over to hug his lover.

"John! Oh, John," Sherlock gasped, hugging him tightly and kissing him on the forehead, not wanting to let him go. "I missed you so much."

"Me, too." John clutched him tightly, trying not to cry. "Me, too."

"Aww," Lynda said, getting choked up at the sight of such a meeting.

The Doctor wistfully smiled to see the two of them reunited, though now he was more determined than before to find Rose. "Where have you two been?" The Doctor asked Jack.

"What Not To Wear. You should have seen us on television, stripped naked for the whole universe to see." Jack smiled at Lynda, flirting with her. "Ratings boost."

"Stripped without our permission." John grimaced, the others catching the note of aggravation in his voice as he clutched Sherlock tighter.

"It's all right, John, you're safe." Sherlock tried to reassure him, grimacing as well.

"We need to get out of here." The Doctor hit the computer, furious.

"Watch it, you'll damage the hardware!" Jack cried, inserting a device into the computer. "Don't worry, I can locate Rose. I cooked up some software last go-round to keep track of each other-"

"Why would you do that?" Lynda asked, surprised.

"Because we're always getting separated and lost. That's pretty smart." Sherlock admitted, still not letting go of John, though they had relaxed a little.

Jack had also noticed the strange power surges as the Doctor groused about Rose being stuck in this Bad Wolf trap with someone manipulating their lives. Sherlock remained quiet, contemplating the situation.

"Do you think-"

"No, it's not the Daleks!" The Doctor shouted, startling John and Jack in particular.

"What? How could it-" John started to say, panicking.

"Daleks? Here and now?" Jack asked. "I thought they were all gone."

"I wasn't going to say that." Sherlock said, letting go of John as he addressed the Doctor. "I might believe it, especially if someone or something is so fixated on destroying you and us as well. No, what I mean to say is that to use such a subliminal, repeating phrase as Bad Wolf, which got louder and more prominent the longer we've traveled together, also seems to be serving a different purpose."

"What are you saying?" The Doctor asked, staring at Sherlock.

"What if someone or something is using that phrase over and over again, drawing more attention to it until we couldn't help looking at it and paying attention? What if it's some sort of sign or warning? Something like that?"

The Doctor and the others gaped at Sherlock as the computer flashed an alert, finding Rose on Floor 407, which Lynda instantly recognized as The Weakest Link. They rushed over there, John and Jack arming themselves, as Lynda briefly described the situation, which horrified the Doctor in particular.

* * *

They reached the studio door, locked tight as the Doctor, Jack, and Sherlock frantically worked to break the seal with John holding the defabricator gun at the ready. They heard the faint voice of the Anne-Droid making an announcement inside the studio, with Lynda crying that it was the end of the show and someone else had won.

They broke through the door and the Doctor immediately charged inside with John, Jack, Sherlock, and Lynda not too far behind. Far away in the distance, illuminated by faint lights in the dark studio, Rose stood at a podium next to another contestant with the Anne-droid in front of them. When she spotted the Doctor and others, she ran away from the podium, screaming about the Anne-droid's gun.

John and Jack attempted to aim their guns at the robot, but it was faster on the draw and fired first-disintegrating Rose right in front of the Doctor. Sherlock and Lynda pulled up to a halt, horrified as John and Jack, after a moment's delay in shock, continued to charge the stage manager and other crew, threatening them.

The Doctor bent down, the horror, shock, and grief visible in his face as he wiped his hands through the sand that remained behind, and then there was no expression left on his face. It was all gone.

Sherlock shook his head. No, no, this couldn't be happening, not after everything they had gone through together…he couldn't help thinking of Rose in that moment, reviewing all of his memories of her in his mind palace.

She had been a friend to him and John, after all, a fellow companion. They had risked their lives together numerous times and shared in all of the Doctor's adventures, experiencing the same thrill, excitement, and fun. Their lives wouldn't be the same without her and she would be sorely missed, most of all by the Doctor.

Already the Doctor was starting to break down without her there, reverting back to a colder, crueler state of mind. Sherlock couldn't stand the look on his face, watching him, for this wasn't the Doctor he knew, or at least this wasn't the Doctor he wanted to know.

There had always been that dark side beneath the veneer of good cheer and fun. It wasn't very pleasant. But Sherlock had hoped by now the Doctor might have been able to shed some of that past. Yet with what had just happened, it looked like the colder version of the Doctor was back in full force. Most of them felt the same.

Suddenly the security guards rushed out, threatening the Doctor, Sherlock, and Lynda and making John and Jack surrender their weapons before they arrested the entire group. One by one, they were questioned, examined, and photographed. They weren't able to speak to each other or communicate while this happened.

John and Sherlock managed to get through this process with as little fuss as possible, especially as they kept their eyes out for the situation at hand. They noticed how many guards there were, where the weapons were stored, the procedures for getting through the various gates, and possible areas to exploit. The Doctor and Jack appeared to be doing the same.

For by the time they were all gathered together for a final briefing, with sentence passed and awaiting prison transport, the Doctor simply said, "Let's do it," and they did.

There was no need to confer, for they had all reached the same basic conclusions, and soon they were bursting out of the cell, attacking the guards, and gathering their weapons. Sherlock disliked handling a weapon and allowed John, Jack, and the Doctor free rein there, much as he hated to see them armed.

Both John and the Doctor had reverted to full soldier mode, just like Jack, and they were all quiet as they fought as efficiently as possible, armed themselves, and made their way up the elevator to Floor 500. It was a sort of inhuman precision, for there was no humanity left in them right now.

Sherlock and Lynda were practically swept along in their wake, though Sherlock had knocked out a couple of guards. He was also reverting to that inhuman, precise mode.

Sherlock studied the Doctor and John, both of whom seemed frozen, and grimaced to himself. He wished he could say something to make them feel better or protest their actions as a suppression, not an outpouring of grief. None of this would bring Rose back.

But he couldn't bring himself to speak to them right now, not when he felt the same way and had to hold himself back. He had to protect himself from such sorrow and rage, as tempting as it was to give in and become a monster.

* * *

They reached Floor 500 and swept in, the programmers and other workers and staff scattering, calling for guards. A handful, however, remained at their stations to protect one lone woman, hooked up to dozens of wires, standing up there on a raised platform.

Sherlock gaped at her as he realized that she was the crucible, the beating heart of the Gamestation, perhaps the mainframe or computer that organized this entire enterprise. John and Jack patrolled, watching all of the staffers, as the Doctor pointed a weapon at the woman and questioned her.

In the past, that position had been held by the Jagrafess, a malevolent alien entity that had desired control and dominance over its workers and the Earth. But this woman…she wasn't really responsible for this mess, was she?

She was just another victim, perhaps chosen at random, to become the computer or mainframe of this entire enterprise. In a way, she reminded him of Lynda and Molly as well.

Though she spouted and mumbled technical jargon, going through lines and reams of data and information like a living computer, there was real fear behind her eyes, the truest emotion she still held onto. Perhaps that was what the programmers responded to, the human emotion they recognized, and that was why they protected, guarded, and shielded her.

She wasn't a computer, a device that could be thrown away. She was still human. And as Sherlock, the Doctor, John, Jack and Lynda stood there, staring at their adversary, the ultimate opponent who might have organized this mess and killed Rose and countless others, Sherlock realized…they weren't going to destroy her, were they?

Not even the Doctor, despite all he had suffered, was so far gone. He recognized the situation this woman was in and questioned who was really in charge here. Sherlock was relieved to find this was true as, without much prompting, the Doctor casually tossed his gun at one of the programmers and then exchanged a rather funny sort of conversation with the man.

Sherlock smirked and relaxed slightly, tension easing off him as he realized that things might still be okay. Yet Rose was gone and the Doctor was still tense and vindictive, intent on finding and punishing the real culprit, but they weren't here. And John and Jack were still in soldier mode as well.

One programmer stood up and became the spokesperson, talking to the Doctor and telling him everything he knew. In short order, Jack and John found the TARDIS, locked up in another room and went inside to check it out. Sherlock waited outside with the Doctor and Lynda, hoping John would return soon and they might be able to talk things through.

They looked up files on the Gamestation's database until a solar flare knocked out all of the power. And the Controller finally spoke out. Apparently she had seen the Doctor out there in space and brought him here to help, for her masters feared the Doctor.

"Daleks?" Sherlock whispered.

Before the Doctor could snap at him, the Controller's eyes widened and she said, "Yes."

Sherlock and the Doctor gaped at her, but before the Controller could tell them more, the power returned to the Gamestation and she went back to her regular programming. The Doctor was frustrated and Sherlock grimaced, angry in a way that he had been proven right and upset as well that their problems might have gotten worse.

* * *

Suddenly Jack and John came running out, excited and almost back to their old selves, which perked up Sherlock slightly and surprised him. Something had changed.

"What's wrong?" John asked, noticing the Doctor and Sherlock were even more dour than they had been before.

"Daleks." The Doctor said, acid dripping off of his words.

"Oh, damn." Jack said, biting his lips in worry now. "I'm sorry, but this might make you feel a tinsy bit better if there is still a chance."

Jack then gestured to Lynda to stand in a corner, with John assuring her, and then Jack demonstrated that the disintegration device was, in fact, a transmat beam. The Doctor and Sherlock stared in shock, smiling, and then jubilant, hugging each other before dismay gave way.

"If Rose is still alive, the Daleks have her." Sherlock said.

"That's the rub, isn't it?" The Doctor said.

Suddenly the Controller started spouting off coordinates and the Doctor quickly entered them into the computer, knowing that she was sacrificing herself at this point. And soon, the Controller was transmatted away, probably straight to the Daleks' ray guns.

The Doctor quickly entered the coordinates with the programmer's help and disrupted the Gamestation's broadcasting signal, thus revealing 200 Dalek spaceships with 2,000 in each one. The sheer horror of so many Daleks all gathered together in space, not far from where they were, was overwhelming.

Sherlock clutched John's hand and John squeezed Sherlock's hand in turn, grimacing to himself. Sherlock was trying to figure out some plan of attack, but John was already thinking that they were outnumbered and would quickly be destroyed if the Daleks attacked them.

A communications channel was opened and the Daleks spoke to the Doctor, threatening him and Rose, standing beside them. The Doctor rolled back his shoulders, bracing himself as he said, "No" to their demands.

Sherlock and John smiled to themselves, watching and listening to the Doctor's speech as Rose smiled at them in turn, even across space. Such a speech stirred and excited them, might have even given them hope for a moment that the Doctor would succeed. But reality would soon settle back in.

Still, for now, they half cheered and clapped as the Doctor told Rose, "I'm coming to get you" before shutting off the transmission.

"All right, battle stations!" Jack cried, as he, the Doctor, Sherlock and John rushed back towards the TARDIS. "We need to get Rose out of there now!"

* * *

They boarded the TARDIS, the thrill, exhilaration, adrenaline and fear pumping them up a little. The Doctor directed them to take up stations surrounding the console as Jack brought out the Extrapolator to create a shield.

They obeyed the Doctor's orders, Sherlock and John throwing switches, turning knobs, pulling on levers and more as the TARDIS dematerialized and then materialized in flight, heading straight for the Dalek spaceship where Rose was located.

Missiles were fired at them, but the extrapolator held as they were hit just prior to dematerialization. This was a feint maneuver to momentarily distract and lull the Daleks into believing they had destroyed the Doctor before the Doctor materialized the TARDIS inside the mothership, right around where Rose was located.

Of course, that brought a Dalek on board the vessel, with Sherlock and John ducking as the Doctor warned Rose to do the same before Jack fired at the Dalek. Jack cheered, whooping, as Rose and the Doctor hugged, both so very glad to see each other again.

"Not bad. Been better." The Doctor casually answered when Rose asked how he was.

He reluctantly let go of her and brushed past her. As if he didn't want to admit to his true feelings. Rose was somewhat dismayed as if she actually believed his words.

"That's a bit of an understatement." Sherlock said as he and John walked up to her. "He was heartbroken. As were we all."

Sherlock hugged Rose tightly, something catching in her throat. "Really? You mean it?" She asked.

"Of course. We're all friends, maybe even more than that." John admitted as he hugged them as well.

The Doctor didn't say anything then, perhaps because he didn't trust himself to speak to Sherlock, John, and Rose. His friends and companions, they had stuck by him through the toughest year of his lives with all of the sorrow, anger, and heartbreak he had been through. And now…what was going to happen to them?

"Thanks, you guys. My god, I thought I would never see you all again!" Rose cried.

"Same here." Sherlock said.

They went out and met the Emperor of the Daleks afterward, with Sherlock, John, Rose and Jack overwhelmed by everything that they could only stand by and listen to the Doctor and the Daleks talking. Still, they glanced around and studied their surroundings, trying to determine as much as they could about the Daleks, their operations, and find any weaknesses.

But the only thing they could discern was that the Daleks were strong and firm in their beliefs and would stop at nothing to destroy Earth and humanity. Not even the news that almost all of these Daleks were half-human could cheer them, for that just made things a little worse as well.

The Doctor sounded afraid, maybe almost pitying the Daleks, before he firmly said that they were leaving. Soon they all piled back into the TARDIS to escape the hatred and threats of the Daleks firing at them, shouting "Exterminate!" all the while.

Rose and Jack leaned against the console, both of them feeling sick, depressed, and afraid of everything they had seen. They were exhausted by the past few hours they had spent stuck inside the Gamestation and now it looked like their fight was far from over. Now they were going to have to face thousands of Daleks.

The Doctor stood in front of the TARDIS doors, thumping his head against the wood as he dejectedly listened to the Daleks crying "Exterminate!" Sherlock and John stood just on the edge of the ramp, looking down at the Doctor and across at their fellow companions.

"We're going to get out of this, right?" Sherlock suddenly asked, staring at John. "We'll figure out a plan, a method of attack to destroy them, right?"

John looked at his lover and suddenly realized how young and inexperienced he was. John had lived in a war zone for years, facing death and destruction as he worked to save dozens of lives. Sherlock might be clever enough to solve mysteries that baffled almost everybody, but he still didn't know what a battle, a war was like, even after traveling with the Doctor.

"Sure." John said, slowly nodding. "Sure." He hugged Sherlock then, not trusting himself to speak, as he looked down at the Doctor.

The Doctor at last turned away from the door and the look in the Doctor's eyes—John recognized it. The look of a battle-hardened veteran, realizing the odds were stacked against them, but still determined to achieve their objectives. Maybe even save a few lives before they were overwhelmed. The Doctor might have recognized the same in John as well.

"Sure," John said, nodding as he faced the Doctor. "Sure."

* * *

**More to come soon-final parts of Series One!** Looking forward to finishing this up and starting the next series, I have some ideas. I really need to streamline this process a bit more to make it easier to write up.


	32. Save You First

New companion announced, hooray for Bill, portrayed by Pearl Mackie. Might be an interesting change, though I was fond of Clara as well. Have to wait and see what's in store there. Not quite the end of Series 1 on this fanfic yet, but I think it's the penultimate or maybe 3rd to last chapter, roughly speaking. Might share some idea of what direction any potential, future series of this fanfic might go. Stay tuned.

* * *

They went back to the Gamestation with the Doctor and Sherlock in particular receiving a hug from Lynda, who greeted them. She and about a hundred other people were stuck on the Gamestation, most of them former contestants on Floor Zero while a handful of programmers, guards, and other employees still remained.

John shuddered slightly, feeling the old sensation of exhilaration and fear that his army life used to bring him, not knowing if he was going to die or someone else. Yet it was more personal as well when the people at risk were some he cared very deeply for, like Sherlock.

The Dalek fleet was advancing, but luckily they couldn't transmat onto the Gamestation with the Doctor blocking their signal. Sherlock glanced over the technical schematics and readouts, impressed by the Doctor's ingenuity as the Time Lord now scrambled about, grabbing wires and cords everywhere.

The madman had an idea to use a Delta Wave, an energy beam of sorts, that would fry the Daleks' brains with the Gamestation serving as the transmitter.

"Like a great big bug-light." John said, grinning as he reached into his pocket and felt for the penlight the Doctor had once given him to deal with Cassandra's spiders. "Bonsai." He whispered.

However, it would take days by conventional standards to create such a wave and they only had half an hour at best before the fleet arrived.

"We've dealt with worse deadlines before." Rose muttered.

"Luckily you've got another genius at hand to help out." Sherlock remarked, turning toward the Doctor. "Now, what sort of work do you need me for? Cords, or would you rather have me at a computer terminal?"

"Computer terminal currently. Rose and John can help gather and knot the cords." The Doctor quickly instructed Rose and John on gathering and knotting the cords before he turned to Sherlock.

"I need this equation, all computers working on it-" The Doctor recited the equation and Sherlock quickly memorized it, inputting the algorithm into several of the computers himself while the Doctor worked on the rest to help produce a simulation of the Delta Wave to be implemented.

Meanwhile, Captain Jack had set up the waveform extrapolator as a force-field for the upper floors of the Gamestation, but he was already working on battle plans for the rest of the Gamestation. John looked up occasionally, watching and listening to such preparations, and might have volunteered to join in on the action.

"Dr. Watson." The Doctor said, catching his attention before John could say anything.

Rose and Sherlock looked up as well, surprised to hear the Doctor use John's surname when they didn't think he had ever done that before. "What?" John said, turning to face him.

"I need you here with me, Rose, and Sherlock working on this project."

"All right then." John sighed, turning back to his work.

At that point, the others were prepared to move out to enforce Jack's plans. Lynda came around to say good-bye to the others and then Jack himself came over, grim, steely-eyed, but with a smile on his face as well. He kissed Rose good-bye, and then turned to John.

"Good-bye, Dr. John Watson." Jack grinned. "We'll always have Blitzed London, won't we?"

He then kissed John, who grimaced and blushed slightly. "If you say so." John said.

Jack then turned to Sherlock Holmes, smiling. "And you, my brave, unbelievable detective who piloted a spaceship all by himself."

"It doesn't end this way." Sherlock said, shaking his head as he remembered the Future Jack in Cardiff.

"Yes, it does." Jack said, kissing Sherlock as well before he turned to the Doctor.

Jack sighed, facing the entire TARDIS crew a moment later before he gave them his final farewell and left to take command. Sherlock wiped away a tear and John watched Jack go, hesitant as well as he wondered if they should have said something about that meeting.

With everyone else gone now, the original foursome were hard at work, mostly quiet. Though John found himself humming and softly singing, "He's Mr. White Christmas, He's Mr. Snow," as he knotted cords.

"Come on, baby (Don't fear the reaper)," Sherlock started singing softly to himself, inputting another equation. "Baby, take my hand (Don't fear the reaper)/We'll be able to fly (Don't fear the reaper)/Baby, I'm your man/La la la la la/La la la la la'."

"Shoot, Sherlock!" John repeated one of the old tree puns.

"He's blowing Reveille, he's the boogie-woogie bugle boy of Company B," Rose sang.

"John's an Auton." The Doctor recalled, laughing.

"Yeti in the loo!" Sherlock called out once, causing the others to laugh.

"Don't blame it on the beaver." The Doctor added, remembering something that Captain Jack had said.

"Raxa-corico-falla-pa-torious," Sherlock sang.

"Super-cali-fra-gi-lis-tic-expi-ali-do-cious," John sang in return.

"Is it melodramatic or camp?" Rose asked.

"Definitely melodramatic." Both Sherlock and John said, laughing a little to stop themselves from crying.

At that moment, though, Sherlock frowned as he examined the results of another computer run-through of the Delta Wave. "We need to refine it further, don't we? I mean, it's a broad spectrum wave currently, very powerful, enough to fry…well, anything, really."

"Not just Daleks?" John asked.

Sherlock sighed. "Yeah."

Rose asked the Doctor then about traveling back in time, but the Doctor said it was impossible. However, when he mentioned them leaving, Sherlock froze and glanced over at the Doctor, wondering if that was what he was thinking about—sending them away?

John didn't say anything or look up. He just kept working on the cords alongside Rose. Then the Doctor got up and went over to check the results on Sherlock's computer, frustrated as Rose joined them. John remained seated on the floor.

"See the wavelength? It doesn't oscillate." Sherlock pointed out.

"The spectrum needs to be narrowed, I know." The Doctor said. "We would have to—how about-" The Doctor started reciting another complex formula, distracting Sherlock a moment.

"Hang on," Sherlock said, attempting to input it into the computer and figure it out himself in his mind palace. Could that equation actually work?

Suddenly the Doctor cried out, like he had an eureka moment, startling Sherlock, who was mentally confused with his equation calculating away in his mind palace. Apparently Rose had a brilliant idea, or something like that.

Now the Doctor was rushing about, sweeping along Rose, Sherlock, and John in his wake, pushing them towards the TARDIS. However, John was slower than he usually was, his psychosomatic limp flaring up again. He couldn't keep up with the others.

That should have alerted Sherlock that something was wrong, but he was still distracted with the equation. And then the Doctor was pushing him and Rose to take up positions around the console, holding down certain instruments.

The Doctor then started to rush out of the TARDIS, and John was turning around, sprinting in the Doctor's wake. That burst of movement woke up Sherlock's sluggish mind, especially as he began to realize the equation was a phony, false trail that led to nowhere, a mathematical dead-end.

"Wait a minute, John, Doctor!" Sherlock cried, letting go of the instruments as the TARDIS doors slammed shut behind the other pair.

"What's happening?" Rose cried, still holding on at her position at the console.

Outside the TARDIS, the Doctor turned around and faced John, panting as he stood there. "You shouldn't be here." The Doctor said.

"You can't make me go back in there without the others getting out." John said.

The Doctor hesitated, facing John and the TARDIS with Rose and Sherlock inside…finally, he sighed and shook his head. "I suppose that's the best we can do." He muttered, taking out his sonic screwdriver.

John stepped away from the TARDIS, and stood by the Doctor's side as he watched it dematerialize. He was relieved for a moment that Sherlock and Rose were escaping the hell that was about to befall this Gamestation.

But he was heartbroken as well at the cries he heard from them and realized that he would never see them again for the rest of his life, which was about to end in a few short minutes, he feared. At least he was at the Doctor's side, much good it did him, and maybe he would face battle one last time. He couldn't wait.

* * *

"They tricked me." Sherlock gasped as he stood alongside Rose, pounding at the TARDIS doors to let them out, to send them back to the Doctor, John, Jack, and the Gamestation. "They tricked us, Rose. John and the Doctor…how dare they send us away like this?"

Suddenly a hologram of the Doctor appeared before them, Rose staring at it in shock as Sherlock merely glared at the Doctor's face. "How dare you do such a thing to us! After everything we have done for you!" Sherlock cried, striding up to face the hologram.

"I know by now that Sherlock must be fuming," The hologram Doctor rolled his eyes. "And John and Rose, you two are probably worried."

"You're damn right about that!" Sherlock cried. "Except for John being here." Sherlock sighed and shook his head.

"Unless something went wrong and one of you went with me…" The hologram Doctor hesitated, obviously thinking the worst. "But I'm not going to assume that, not now, anyway."

"Too late." Sherlock muttered.

The hologram Doctor instructed them, after the TARDIS took them home, to leave it alone and let it get buried. "I know that's tough, especially if Mycroft or Moriarty or whoever else tries to get their hands on it. But the TARDIS won't let anyone else pilot her now. Not even you, Sherlock, despite the driving lessons you've been taking."

"What a waste of a perfectly good machine." Sherlock groaned.

"The TARDIS deserves to be left alone, for everything she has done. And I want to thank you, all of you, for everything you have done to help me out these past couple of months." The hologram Doctor glanced down. "I'll admit I haven't been the best traveling companion and we fight more often than not. But I just want to say I wouldn't have missed our trips for the universe."

"Neither would I." Sherlock muttered to himself, a little sorrowful now.

At that point, the hologram Doctor turned and faced Sherlock and Rose and told them to have a fantastic life. Suddenly, as the hologram Doctor phased out, another face briefly appeared.

"Um, hello, not sure if this thing is actually recording." Hologram John appeared.

"What—John, what did you do?" Sherlock groaned.

"Right, well, let's get started." Hologram John adjusted his shirt. "This message is for Sherlock mostly, though Rose, if you're watching, I'm sorry about what's happened."

"What's going on?" Rose asked, confused.

"He's being a fool." Sherlock muttered.

"If you're watching this, probably after the Doctor's message, then I decided to stay behind or something happened to me, and I just wanted to leave something for Sherlock." Hologram John cleared his throat and said, "Several months ago, I went on this adventure with Sherlock, not really wanting to, though he was keen on it. Admittedly it sounded exciting, space and time travel, but also dangerous as well from everything I read."

"He didn't want to go. I persuaded him." Sherlock said.

"Yet I went because I loved him and, in time, that love became real for both of us." Hologram John said, causing Sherlock and Rose to freeze. "And I was right, though, about how dangerous it could be. More right than I thought possible. And if you're watching this, then it proves how right I was."

"Don't make this an 'I told you so' moment." Sherlock groaned.

"But I'm not going to dwell on that. Instead, I'm going to say that I chose to come with you, Sherlock. I chose to stay with you, to love you, and save you as well." Hologram John said.

"What?" Sherlock said, looking up at him.

"I didn't want to lose you again, Sherlock. Not when you were locked in that coffin, the Slitheen were chasing you, and then the Dalek and the Reaper and the Gas Mask Zombie…" Hologram John shuddered. "How many times did you nearly die? How many times were you actually dead?"

"Lost count." Sherlock muttered.

"I was in danger, too, yes, dozens of times." John said. "But you seemed to get into even more danger than I did for how reckless, brave, daring and certain you are. You risked your life more times than I did, my love. I loved that about you, yet I didn't want to lose you. Perhaps more than you feared to lose me."

"That's not true. I feared losing you as well." Sherlock uselessly argued. "I still do."

"I saw you die, Sherlock. I've seen other people die." Hologram John said. "You may investigate dead bodies, but you don't always see them die. You don't know them when they were alive. You don't see the life leave their bodies. It's different in some ways. I didn't want that to happen to you. And I didn't want you to see that happen to me."

"No." Sherlock said, shaking his head.

"So I swore I would save you first. Always. Good-bye, my love." Hologram John said, smiling as he vanished.

"No!" Sherlock cried. The TARDIS had landed, materialized somewhere, and Sherlock raced out the doors as soon as he could, finding himself on the Powell Estate.

"No, no," Sherlock muttered, sliding his fingers through his hair.

This was a nightmare, something that he didn't want to live through, both John and the Doctor, gone. He raced off, passed Mickey heading towards the TARDIS, as he just wanted to get away.

"Hey, Sherlock, what's going on?" Mickey called out to him, but he didn't respond.

That meant leaving Rose alone in her misery, too, as she mourned the loss of the Doctor and maybe John as well. Perhaps that was selfish and terrible, but he didn't feel like finding solace with her or Mickey, not right now.

* * *

He slowed down after a while, cooling off after wasting a lot of his pent-up anger and sorrow. He was still somewhere in the neighborhood of the Powell Estate, though a few blocks away from where the TARDIS was. He just had to get away from there, from the temptation and the holograms.

He reached into his pocket and retrieved his mobile, tried to call the Doctor and John, in case they might answer him. But there was no response or the super mobile coverage wasn't working, which infuriated Sherlock to no end.

He hesitated, not certain what to do now. Should he try to call Harriet, John's sister, and tell her what happened to him? He didn't have her number and maybe that would be difficult to explain.

But no, he couldn't do that. He didn't feel like writing off John right now. John wouldn't do the same to him. Lestrade, Molly, Ms. Hooper…Sherlock hesitated, wanting to call them and tell them what happened, try to find some comfort with them.

But nothing could be done about saving John or the Doctor that way. He should concentrate on finding a way back to them. Perhaps he should head back to the TARDIS and Rose, maybe talk with her and Mickey about what could or might be done.

Suddenly, Sherlock's mobile was ringing, and he frantically fumbled with it. Even when he saw who was calling, and that it wasn't John or the Doctor, he was somewhat relieved at least to see a familiar name on the other end.

He answered, "Mycroft, do you see me?"

Mycroft said, "I do see you. I've had the cameras programmed to track any appearance of the TARDIS and as soon as I saw you…what happened? Where's John or the Doctor?"

"Oh, Mycroft," Sherlock said, shaking his head as he then told Mycroft the whole story about what happened on the Gamestation. "And now here we are without them and I don't know what to do. I know what we should do is to get back and help them, but I'm somewhat at a loss of words, at wit's end, I suppose."

"It's all right, brother mine." Mycroft said, trying to soothe him. "You're fine, and you will figure out a way through this. You're strong, and that soldier boy of yours—I'm grateful that he did what he could."

"What do you mean?" Sherlock asked, frowning to himself. "What John did was despicable to say the least. Leading me astray and sending me away when-"

"Yes, perhaps, but at least he did his best to protect you." Mycroft hesitated. "I told him something the first time I told you all about the Doctor. I said, 'I know that you care for my brother and I want you to do your best to take care of him. I know you can do it.' I'm sorry that John has done so to such a degree, yet I am grateful to him as well for saving you."

Sherlock grimaced, annoyed. "He didn't do it just for you or for me either. But because he wanted to help and because he loved me." He sighed. "But I'm not going to give up on him either. Could you get me in contact with Captain Jack Harkness of…Torchwood or whatever?"

"Captain Jack?" Mycroft hesitated. "I'm not certain if this requires-"

"Look, I know it's him. I know he's there somewhere in Cardiff or whatever." Sherlock said. "And it's a future version of him, one that's already lived through these events. I want to know, if he can tell me about what happened and how these events play out."

"If you're sure that's wise-"

"Just tell me if you can get in contact with him, please." Sherlock said, and then hesitated. "How are you doing, by the way, Mycroft? Have you recovered fully?"

"Just about back to my old self." Mycroft said. "I've been seeing Lestrade lately. Apologized to him for not doing so sooner."

"That's good, I suppose. I'm sure he understands." Sherlock said, walking along back towards Rose and the TARDIS. "Have you any idea about who or what was responsible for your hypnosis?"

"No clue exactly, but I have been doing some digging…" Mycroft paused and said, "Sherlock, are you entirely certain the Doctor is the last Time Lord?"

"What do you mean?" Sherlock asked, stopping in his tracks. "Of course he is. The Doctor said some months ago, back in Utah, that he was the last. He couldn't feel any other Time Lords around. Of course, he thought that was the last Dalek, but—why do you ask?"

"The Master," Mycroft said, swallowing hard. "This was the sort of thing he did back in the Doctor's UNIT days, and even after whenever he made an appearance."

"No. No, it can't be unless…" Sherlock hesitated, trying to think it through. "I don't know. I've got to go and think this through. Check on Rose at least. Will you call Jack?"

"Yes, I'll try. Good luck, Sherlock." Mycroft said.

"Thanks, bye." Sherlock said, hanging up his mobile.

He started off again, walking through the neighborhood, and paused as he saw a sign spray-painted with the graffiti 'Bad Wolf'. And then farther down, he saw another…and another…Sherlock shivered to himself.

He remembered this feeling, he first encountered it when he heard the warning that Gwyneth had given them back in the 1800s, 'the smiling men with hyena grins', could that be the Master or whoever? And 'Blaidd Drwg', or Bad Wolf, had shown up again later in Cardiff just before they opened up the Heart of the TARDIS and…he remembered it now.

The song, the Heart of the TARDIS had sung to him, almost as beautiful as the violin he played, it whispered to him a sad melody, a lullaby. It sang of sad farewells, lost friends and companions, of distant worlds and stars eaten away by black holes and other forces. It spoke of the fight, running, and of death, and how everything was gone, except for one love, two hearts, who changed forevermore.

Sherlock closed his eyes and let the melody sink into his consciousness as he reached out and touched one of these posters, tracing the lines of Bad Wolf. Two words. Each were written differently, as if by two separate hands.

Sherlock's eyes widened and then he started running, racing off back towards the TARDIS. At that moment, he almost ran right into Rose, coming from another direction with Mickey on her tail.

"Sherlock!" Rose cried, and then punched him as hard as she could on the arm.

"Ow! What was that for?" Sherlock asked, rubbing his arm.

"For abandoning me, us," Rose added for Mickey's sake, "When we could have used you a while ago. I didn't know where you went or what you had in mind."

"I'm sorry, all right?" Sherlock said, shaking his head. "I wasn't thinking straight, but now I've got-"

"The Heart of the TARDIS?" Rose asked, nodding. "And Bad Wolf? It's all linked together, isn't it?"

"What the hell are you talking about?" Mickey asked.

"You figured it out, too?" Sherlock asked, sort of surprised.

"It wasn't that hard." Rose said, a bit miffed with him still. "I ran out on lunch with my mum and Mickey. We were arguing and I got to the playground and I saw it, the message. We can get back there, can't we?" She asked with a grin.

"Rose, it's too dangerous." Mickey tried to say.

"Of course we can, if we can get that hatch open." Sherlock said, nodding. "I imagine the Doctor would make it as difficult as he possibly can so that it doesn't pop open by accident."

"Right, Mickey," Rose said, turning to him. "We're going to need your car."

* * *

"You should have gone." The Doctor told John again half an hour ago in the far future, shaking his head.

"I'm sorry that I deceived you and Sherlock and Rose too, but I couldn't go just yet." John said, facing the Doctor. "You need me or at least someone to stay behind and help out, if possible, with that Delta Wave."

"I could handle it fine enough on my own." The Doctor insisted.

"No you couldn't, not when it is so damn difficult, even for you. A small amount of help is all that I can offer, but I hope it will be enough. You wouldn't have left, so I won't leave either." John said. "Have to make sure the mission is a success, you know."

The Doctor sighed and smiled. "Can't just get rid of you either, can I?"

John grinned, too, but his heart wasn't really in it. Sherlock would have stayed, but he had to get his beloved out of there and take his place instead. He hoped that it would be all right and that he wouldn't be sorely missed, not compared to someone like Sherlock.

Meanwhile, Jack contacted them, and it panged both the Doctor and John to admit the others had been sent away, leaving them behind. Suddenly the Dalek Emperor spoke to them, revealing that he knew about the Delta Wave and that it wasn't effective enough.

John hesitated, worried that Jack might hate and despise them for putting him in such a situation, faced with death and destruction with their last route of escape sent away. But Jack grimly reassured the Doctor and John they had done the best they could, perhaps already accepting his fate.

"We'll do everything we can." John told Jack, despite the Emperor listening in.

Jack laughed. "Of course you will. We'll buy you time, free of charge."

Jack cut off communications and John grimaced, hating the fact that they were risking and losing so many lives on the slim chance that the Delta Wave could do enough damage to the Dalek fleet. The Doctor questioned the Dalek Emperor about Bad Wolf then, but apparently he didn't know anything about it.

"Do you think he's lying?" John asked.

"What would he have to gain from it?" The Doctor frowned to himself. "Fact of the matter is, what would anyone have to gain from scattering those words throughout time and space?"

"Sherlock thought it was a message, a warning of some kind." John murmured, shaking his head. "That it was drawing attention to itself."

"Yeah, maybe, but it still doesn't explain what the message might mean. It's gibberish otherwise." The Doctor said.

John nodded, but he didn't quite agree with the Doctor as he couldn't help pondering the problem. "For our sakes. We noticed it, after all, and it seemed to appear wherever we were, so maybe we were the intended audience."

"Maybe, but why would anyone contact us this way with a…mysterious message that a detective would want to solve." The Doctor frowned again, and shook his head. "No, not possible."

However, John and the Doctor couldn't debate or ponder this problem for much longer as the Dalek fleet arrived with Lynda posted as a monitor of the situation. John and the Doctor worked faster than before, hooking up the various computers to the Delta Wave device as the Doctor, with some minor assistance from John, entered and refined the Delta Wave algorithm as much as possible into the computers.

Though the bandwidth and spectrum narrowed, with some oscillation that could be controlled and directed straight at Daleks, it was still too wide-ranging and temperamental. Half the Earth might get caught in the crossfires if they fired the wave at the Dalek fleet.

Over the radio, they heard the first wave of attack from the Daleks with the first line of defense falling to them. The second line of defense came from the Annedroid that had 'disintegrated' Rose, but even that didn't last long.

And suddenly the Daleks were branching out, heading down to the lower levels to defeat the defenseless humans, not just trying to get at the upper level where the Doctor and John worked. And some parts of the fleet, with nothing better to do, were starting to attack the Earth, truly cutting off the Gamestation from any source of help.

John and the Doctor helplessly listened to the Daleks firing away, yet they kept working as hard as they possibly could. Every life lost weighed heavily on them, but they couldn't stop now, not when they were so close to ending this pain and misery by defeating them.

John paused a moment, realized that he was working on his own death as well if the machine got up and running. The Delta Wave would surely blast him, the Doctor, Jack, Lynda and the other humans still remaining on this side of the Earth as well as the Daleks. But he couldn't contemplate that, not if there was a chance…he checked a readout again.

"They don't change." The Doctor said, not even looking up at him. "Not more than a hair-length, at any rate, and by the time we get it working…it won't matter. We're done for, either way."

John turned to the Doctor and said, "I won't believe that. Not if there is a chance."

"There isn't," The Doctor insisted, but he still kept working, perhaps secretly hoping to be proved wrong. John wanted to believe that, too.


	33. A Brilliant End

I did it! I finally did it after two years-the end of Series One of _Sherlock, John, and the Doctor_. I hope you enjoy it.

* * *

"Useless! Utterly useless!" Sherlock cried, kicking the TARDIS console. "Pointless! Idiotic! Come on, you blasted thing, and open up!"

"Sherlock! Insulting it is not going to get it to open up any!" Rose said, though she was on the verge of tears. The chain had ripped off of Mickey's car without opening the hatch to the Heart of the TARDIS.

"It makes me feel better! Sentient it might be, but sympathetic? I doubt it very much!" Sherlock cried, one last insult before he sagged, deflated and dejected. "We need something more powerful. A bigger car." Sherlock said, and lit up slightly. "Mycroft might have something to spare. Perhaps a tank."

"Do you think it's going to work?" Rose asked, glancing up at him.

"Of course. It has got to." Sherlock said and pulled out his mobile. He attempted to contact Mycroft, but couldn't get hold of him.

"Blast it. Of all the times to have a cabinet meeting!" He left his request with Anthea and hung up. "He might get back to me in an hour, but we don't have time for that." Sherlock said. "I wonder if New Scotland Yard has got anything in its garage. I bet Lestrade would get back to me quicker."

Rose groaned as someone knocked on the TARDIS door. Jackie came in and tried to talk to Rose while Sherlock attempted to contact Lestrade, but he was busy on a case as well. Sherlock grimaced and hung up his mobile as Rose started talking to her mum about seeing her dad Pete.

"What?" Jackie gasped, staring at Rose in horror. "No, that can't be true."

"It happened, Jackie." Sherlock said, coming towards them. "I met Pete as well. He was worried about going bald and he loved 'Don't Fear the Reaper' and he needed glasses or contacts. We tried to save him, but there was nothing that could be done. Time couldn't be changed then, but maybe it can be changed now. Maybe they don't have to die."

Jackie slapped Sherlock and then ran out of the TARDIS, crying. Rose stared at Sherlock, shocked as Sherlock grimaced and rubbed the sore spot on his face.

"That went rather well." He managed to say.

"You shouldn't have—oh, I don't know what to do." Rose sighed, sagging into herself.

"Listen, Rose, I'm going to get us a bigger car come hell or high water. I've got contacts and-" Suddenly, Sherlock's mobile rang. "Please let it be Mycroft or Lestrade!" Sherlock cried, answering.

"Sherlock. It's great to hear your voice again. Miss me?" Captain Jack Harkness said, probably grinning on the other end of the line.

Sherlock felt a little quiver and flutter inside of himself with that coy, alluring tone Jack used. But he pressed the impulse down as Jack was probably dialing up his charm as high as it could go to throw him off, for whatever reason.

"Jack, I want to know how you got off the Gamestation. How you survived." Sherlock said.

Rose gasped and sat up straighter. "Is that Jack on the other line? Are they okay? What's happened?"

Sherlock turned to Rose and briefly explained, "John and I met a future version of Jack in Cardiff who must have already lived through these events."

Rose gaped at Sherlock. "And you're just telling me this now?"

Sherlock shushed Rose as Jack was speaking again, though his tone was darker, less cheery and more sardonic than before. "Oh, so that's going on for you right now. Well, I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but I don't really know how I survived. I don't even know why I'm alive when I was dead."

"What do you mean by that?" Sherlock asked, shocked.

"I was dead, shot by Daleks. Can't get any deader than that. Then whoops, I'm alive again! Except with some complications thrown into the mix that I'm still dealing with. I was kind of hoping the Doctor or someone might have the answer to that. I've been waiting for a long time now." Jack said, an edge to his voice.

Sherlock sighed. "I'm sorry, Jack, I don't know anything about your—condition. We're still working out a way to get back to you, John, and the Doctor using the Heart of the TARDIS."

"Heart of the TARDIS? You mean that—oh. That might explain some things." Jack said, pondering it. "I can't help you out there, but I think I'm living proof that you do succeed in getting back with the Heart of the TARDIS."

"Thanks, Jack. That's some comfort at least." Sherlock said and hung up the mobile, pondering the problem and wondering what happened to Jack.

* * *

"Well, what did he have to say?" Rose asked.

"He doesn't know how we succeed in getting him off the Gamestation alive, but we do succeed in some regard." Sherlock said.

"That's some comfort, but not very helpful." Rose said, walking out of the TARDIS.

Sherlock followed after her, but stopped at the doorframe, leaning against it. He didn't feel like leaving the vessel behind, not when there was a chance they could get it going again. He reviewed all of the people he knew, wondering if they could obtain a very large truck for him at short notice if neither Mycroft nor Lestrade could get back to him soon.

Possibly one of his Irregulars could steal one if necessary from a construction site. He might be able to do the same. Actually, wasn't there some construction near here?

He steeled himself to commit an act of grand larceny, all in the name of the Doctor and John, as he swept off while Mickey was trying to talk to Rose. Suddenly they heard a very loud, deep horn honking and Sherlock stopped in his tracks, shocked.

Could it be that Mycroft or Lestrade had pulled through for him on short notice? He spun round, eager with his eyes shining brightly as he saw that great, big rescue truck driving down the road, piloted by none other than—Jacqueline Tyler?

Sherlock and Rose gaped at the sight in shock as Jackie pulled up next to them, telling them that she had borrowed it from a man called Rodrigo. Jackie insisted there was nothing between them to her daughter as Sherlock studied Jackie with a new appreciation in mind.

Jackie caught Sherlock looking at her. "What's it to you?" She asked.

"Thank you for this. You have no idea how much we appreciate it." Sherlock said.

"I have some idea, after all." Jackie said, coming up to Sherlock. "For all his faults, my husband was a good man and I think you knew him for a short while. I wish you could have saved him, but if we can get your John, the Doctor, and this Captain Jack out of that mess—well, maybe it'll be okay. Pete would have done it."

Sherlock nodded, understanding what she was saying as they went to work attaching the chain to the truck and the TARDIS hatch. Sherlock and Rose gathered around the console inside the TARDIS, observing the hatch and chain as Jackie barked out directions to Mickey driving the truck.

"Any change?" Sherlock called out to Rose, glancing back at her.

"I think it's working!" Rose said, watching the hatch intently.

Suddenly the hatch sprang open, revealing a blinding light and Sherlock and Rose stared, mesmerized by the light emanating from the Heart of the TARDIS. It sang and howled out to them as they gathered around, closer, and then it entered into them.

Suddenly the TARDIS doors closed and the vessel dematerialized from 21st century London, leaving behind Jackie, Mickey, Mycroft, Lestrade, Future Jack and everyone else. But they paid no mind to that as they just stared deep into the vessel, absorbing everything the TARDIS had to tell and share with them, all of that power and glory as they traveled back to the Gamestation through the Vortex.

They understood it all and knew everything and felt it, every single atom, every single moment, and it was awful and brilliant and overwhelming and mind-numbing. The vessel was taking hold of them and wiping everything out that was them, leaving nothing behind but the Bad Wolf, the TARDIS imprint upon them with all of its strength and power.

Sherlock's mind palace was blasted apart, room by room by room, with the sheer force of the power. But in one little corner of his subconscious, Sherlock's mental form hunkered down, awaiting annihilation with everything it treasured and valued gathered around it, like a dragon sleeping upon a treasure horde.

Sherlock's mental form closed its eyes, thinking of John, as it waited the coming of Bad Wolf to save and destroy him.

* * *

"A barricade?" John asked, a little speechless as Captain Jack showed him a view of the makeshift barricade he and the other programmers had built on Floor 499 just below John and the Doctor with his phone's camera.

"Has it really come to that?" John asked.

He couldn't help thinking of other barricades in other time periods and places that people had died at, trying to defend themselves. In fact, he had made his stand at a number of barricades in the past, and one time he was shot at one, though he survived. Others had not been so fortunate.

Jack nodded. "Just a place for us to shelter in and fire upon the Daleks when they come. And they will come. It might stop them for a short while, but…you know."

"I know." John sighed. "I'm sorry again for…you know I wish…"

"I know." Jack said, smiling. "Take care of yourself."

John hung up his mobile and glanced over at the Doctor, who said nothing as if he had not been listening to their conversation. The Doctor had practically shut himself off, aside from focusing on creating the Delta Wave and the detonator that would set it off.

So John said nothing as well, and went back to work, two soldiers on a mission together. The Doctor could be emotionless, working as hard and steadily as before, yet he was breaking apart inside, too. Things were getting desperate here and they wouldn't get better.

John couldn't hide his feelings so easily, yet he managed to cope by copying the Doctor a little. Occasionally he might have cried, but he wiped away his tears so that the Doctor wouldn't see. Of course the Doctor saw it, but he ignored it as well, just another piece of his hearts breaking to have John and Jack here with him.

They heard the guns firing below as the Daleks advanced on the barricade. And then the guns were silenced one by one as they kept working, until finally there was just one gun left firing and Captain Jack reported he was the last one left standing.

John wiped his eyes again and suddenly Lynda contacted them, saying the Daleks were trying to break through the door of her observation post. John had almost forgotten about Lynda, or at least so much had happened since he had heard from her. The Doctor tried to ask Lynda what was going on as everything went quiet and then she screamed.

After that, there was nothing and the Doctor cut off communications with her as he kept on working, wiring the final detonator. John stood there for a moment, stunned and shaking his head. Jack was still firing down below, but then his gun started clicking. He had run out of bullets.

"Jack?" John said over the communications channel.

"John," The Doctor said, trying to distract him and call him back to their work.

But John didn't pay attention to him and listened to Jack's final words and the Daleks firing at him. John started crying outright then, losing one of his dearest friends like that, and the Doctor silently allowed him to grieve, feeling the loss as well.

But finally, the Doctor strode over toward the detonator and John realized what he was about to do. "No, please," John said, walking over to him.

"What? This is it, John. The Daleks have taken over the Gamestation. They're coming up here. We're the only ones left. If we're going to destroy their fleet-" The Doctor said, setting it up.

"The Delta Wave isn't ready yet. It'll destroy half the Earth at least." John said.

"The Daleks have already invaded the Earth and probably destroyed that much of it." The Doctor said, poised on the detonator. "This is all we can do to stop them. The Delta Wave is as ready as it'll ever be. This is what we've been working for all along. What everyone else here has died for, Jack and Lynda, too." He glanced down. "We sent away Sherlock and Rose so that they wouldn't be here, couldn't be here when we did this."

"I know, I know, I've been thinking of that all along. It's just-" John hesitated, staring at the Doctor. "I didn't want this to happen. I didn't want to do it, I didn't want you to do it. I couldn't bear it."

Before the Doctor could say anything, the Daleks entered the room. John and the Doctor stared around the room in horror as the Dalek Emperor contacted them once more. The Doctor threatened them as John remained silent, watching the confrontation play out.

When the Dalek Emperor questioned who the Doctor was, he glanced at John, his hands trembling on the detonator and tears threatening to well from his eyes. John stared back at him, but said nothing until the Doctor finally let go of the detonator and admitted he was a coward.

John smiled. "That's my Doctor."

The Doctor nodded, but still grimaced as the Dalek Emperor passed sentence on both of them. The Doctor closed his eyes and grabbed John's hand for comfort, John gripping the Doctor's hand in turn. Suddenly they heard the TARDIS wailing as it materialized behind them.

* * *

They turned around, staring in horror as a blazing light emerged from the TARDIS, blinding them, and Rose and Sherlock appeared, but it wasn't them. Or at least it wasn't just them, there was something else within them as well. Suddenly Sherlock was standing right in front of John, as Rose stood in front of the Doctor, and John could see the light shining from Sherlock's eyes, blazing through him.

"What is this? What's going on?" John cried, reaching out for Sherlock.

"Don't touch me." Sherlock spoke emotionlessly and lifelessly, yet tears brimmed from his eyes full of sadness and despair as well. "We are the Bad Wolf. We blaze with the light of the vortex, the Heart of the TARDIS itself. We see and know all of time and space and everything within it."

With that, Sherlock and Rose, or Bad Wolf, proceeded to stop the Daleks from exterminating the Doctor and John and then they eradicated the Daleks, the Dalek fleet, and the Emperor himself. John and the Doctor watched it all in horror, knowing Sherlock and Rose were destroying themselves, too.

"Make them stop, please." John pleaded with the Doctor.

The Doctor tried to reason with them, but Sherlock said, "No, we cannot let it go. It begins and ends with us, it consumes us, all of life and the universe beyond."

"Please, Sherlock, you and Rose don't know what you're doing." John said.

"Of course we know. We always know. We are a part of everything. We-" Sherlock gasped, clutching at his head. "It's…slipping, it hurts."

"Sherlock, please let it go." John pleaded with him.

"Something's happening…John…" Sherlock whimpered, looking up at him. The light was fading from Sherlock's eyes, but John didn't know what he could do.

"Doctor?" John asked, staring at the Time Lord.

The Doctor nodded. "Take my hand, Sherlock." He reached out for his friend.

Sherlock nodded and grabbed the Doctor's hand, as the Doctor spoke to Rose and brought her in for a kiss. John watched, amazed as the light blazing forth from Sherlock and Rose was drained from them and drawn into the Doctor instead. Sherlock and Rose, looking like themselves once more, wilted and fainted with John catching Sherlock as the Doctor held onto Rose.

"You did it, Doctor. Thank you." John gasped, laying Sherlock gently on the floor.

He looked up at the light blazing forth from the Doctor, who blew it out like a hurricane towards the TARDIS. The light faded when the door closed, and it grew dark once more inside the quiet Gamestation as the Doctor stumbled slightly.

"Doctor? Are you hurt?" John asked, standing up beside him.

The Doctor nodded. "It just took a lot out of me, that's all."

The Doctor glanced down at the veins of his arm, still glimmering and glowing slightly. John noticed this and gaped at the sight as a thought occurred to him.

"Are you regenerating?"

"Yep. Come on, you get Sherlock, I'll grab Rose. Let's get into the TARDIS and get out of here." The Doctor said, turning to bend down and check on Rose.

"What? But—but Doctor-" John said, staring at him.

"What?" The Doctor said, staring up at him, obviously in pain and distress.

John hesitated and then said, "Never mind. I'll help out. It'll be okay, I suppose."

John grabbed Sherlock and the Doctor nodded as they dragged Rose and Sherlock back to the TARDIS. "I know it's scary. Believe me, I was scared the first time it happened to me and loads of time after that. I'm still scared."

The Doctor glanced at John as they stopped at the TARDIS doors. "This whole death and revival thing is a bit iffy, but I promise you, it'll be all right. It'll work itself out, you'll see. I may be different, I may look and act differently, but I'm still the same person, deep inside. It might take me a while to figure that out, though."

John nodded. "I understand." He was trying not to be scared, for the Doctor's sake as well as his own.

* * *

They dragged Sherlock and Rose into the TARDIS, up the ramp, and onto the grated flooring by the console. The Doctor sagged against the console and John helped him brace himself against it.

"Close the door." The Doctor said.

John did so, realizing that they were leaving the bodies of Lynda and Captain Jack Harkness behind on the Gamestation. He hoped they would be okay, that their remains would be treated with dignity and respect by whoever came to the Gamestation next. Or maybe they would remain there forever along with the rest.

The Doctor fiddled with the TARDIS controls and they dematerialized, leaving the Gamestation behind, and entering the vortex. As the Doctor and John gathered around the console, checking to see that everything was all right with the TARDIS's instruments, Sherlock and Rose woke up, a bit groggy and unable to remember exactly what happened.

John hugged and kissed Sherlock as Sherlock asked, "What happened to Captain Jack? We brought him back, didn't we?"

The Doctor looked up and stared at Sherlock as John shook his head. "What do you mean? He was…he died."

"Died?" Rose said, confused.

"Yes, he died and then was brought back to life again by us and the Heart of the TARDIS." Sherlock told her before turning to John. "I spoke to the future Jack on the mobile before Rose and I came back. Remember that future Jack we met in Cardiff? That was him. Apparently he didn't know why or how he was brought back to life until then. No one told him."

"Future Jack? What has he been up to?" The Doctor said, shaking his head.

John gaped at Sherlock. "I didn't know! I thought he was still dead when we left."

Sherlock turned to the Doctor, arching an eyebrow. "What about you? Did you know?"

The Doctor sighed. "I knew he was alive again, that you and Rose brought him back. I sensed him. He's different now, not entirely human anymore. That's what you get when the time vortex brings you back."

"How could you do that to him?" John cried, astonished. "He's back, Jack's alive, and he's back there and we left him alone on the Gamestation with the dead."

"Listen, I've got a more pressing matter to deal with and Jack's a big boy." The Doctor grimaced painfully. "He can take care of himself, he doesn't need me now. He's got a lot to deal with and so have I. I can't handle having him around me right now. Things are already so complicated and confused enough without throwing his type of time anomaly into the mix."

Sherlock studied the Doctor in that moment and his eyes suddenly widened. "Are you regenerating?"

"Bingo. Hit it on the nose." The Doctor said, grimacing again as he leaned forward, like trying to contain all his pain and misery.

He started talking to them about Barcelona the planet and regeneration, explaining it mostly for Rose's benefit as she was still grappling with the idea of it all. Sherlock and John, however, though appalled that this was happening to the Doctor, their friend they had gotten to know so well, were also strangely fascinated that this was happening.

The Doctor was regenerating, not many people had seen this happen, and now they were experiencing it and witnessing it firsthand. The Doctor noticed their barely contained glee, excitement, and anticipation, and he rolled his eyes.

"Boys, settle down now. Stop acting like a bunch of fans." He snapped.

"Sorry, Doctor." Sherlock and John said, quieting down now.

The Doctor said good-bye to Rose and then he looked to Sherlock and John. "Boys, take care of yourselves. And watch out for yourselves around the new me. He might be different, I don't know what to expect."

"We understand, Doctor. Good-bye." Sherlock and John said, mindful and respectful now as they mourned the loss of their friend, the 9th Doctor.

He said his good-byes, that they were all fantastic, with a smile on his face, and then he regenerated. It was a brilliant, glorious show that blazed before them as they shielded their eyes, not knowing what they might see. A face was forming out of the ashes of the old, with hair and eyebrows, and then the face snapped forward.

* * *

Sherlock, John, and Rose stared at the new Doctor, the 10th Doctor, in shock. He had a great big mane of bushy brown hair with sideburns and thick eyebrows. He also appeared younger than his former self, closer to Sherlock's age as a matter of fact, with a long, angular face, pointed chin, and large, deep, brown eyes.

"My gosh, he's gorgeous." Sherlock muttered.

"Shut up." John said, punching him without Rose or the Doctor noticing.

The 10th Doctor said hello and then remarked upon his new teeth, smiling at them as he mentioned Barcelona. Sherlock and John smiled as well, feeling a little better as the Doctor checked the time coordinates, but Rose remained in shock. The Doctor preferred to self-examine himself as Sherlock and John waited patiently.

"Brown hair." Sherlock added.

"Really?" The Doctor said, his smile fading a little. "Not ginger?"

"Nope, sorry." Sherlock said, John suppressing a giggle.

"Bummer. Thanks anyway, Sherlock." The Doctor said.

"No problem." Sherlock said.

But now Rose insisted the Doctor wasn't the Doctor with Sherlock, John, and the Doctor both trying to convince her of what she saw. But she wouldn't have any of that, grasping at straws to convince herself the Doctor hadn't changed.

"Honestly, Rose, you're acting childishly." Sherlock said.

"Shut up. Can't you see she's having a hard time dealing with this?" John told Sherlock.

"No excuse." Sherlock said.

The Doctor grimaced at Sherlock, then gently tried to reassure Rose as John and Sherlock walked off to the side, trying to rest and recuperate for a moment.

"I thought I had lost you forever." John said, holding Sherlock's hand.

Sherlock nodded. "So had I. Why did you and the Doctor send us away?"

John sighed. "It was better for us than having you two stay behind and watch all of the Daleks destroy everything. We were the only ones left, and at the end…we couldn't unleash the Delta Wave. It would have been too horrible for us to bear, that guilt at the end."

Sherlock nodded. "I suppose that's understandable, but still…you tricked us, forced us to go in the TARDIS. We didn't even get the chance to say good-bye, aside from those stupid holograms. Why did you record such a message?"

John shrugged. "I'm sorry, but I felt it was the right thing to do. You and Rose are both at fault, by the way, for bringing the TARDIS back and saving us with that horrible Heart of the TARDIS overwhelming you two. You both were dying, you know, before the Doctor saved you and that forced his regeneration."

"All right, I'll grant the regeneration is our fault. But we did save you and the Doctor and even Captain Jack as well, not to mention destroyed the Daleks. I don't think you can fault us for that." Sherlock said, smiling.

"By the way, what do you think has happened to Captain Jack? How different do you think he can be that the Doctor would reject him like that, refuse to let him come back with us?" John asked.

"No idea. But I suspect Jack still holds a grudge with the Doctor on that account." Sherlock said. "Maybe we should call him up and ask him whenever we get the chance."

"Maybe," John said, but now he looked up at the Doctor running around the console. Apparently he had finally convinced Rose of who he was.

"Howdy, boys, how's it going?" The Doctor asked as he ran past them.

"Fine, Doctor. I think we're doing quite well." Sherlock said.

"Good." The Doctor said, smiling at them. "No worries on your account?"

"None whatsoever. I think we're good." John nodded.

"Excellent. Brilliant, as a matter of fact." The Doctor said as he reminisced about them hopping for their lives with Sherlock and John laughing.

But Rose was still hesitant, asking if he could change back, and then he asked if she wanted to leave as he changed course back to London, Powell Estate, Christmas Eve. Both John and Sherlock groaned, not wanting to change course right now when Barcelona sounded so fascinating.

"Hey, that's enough out of you two." The Doctor warned.

But John and Sherlock both supposed that the Doctor and Rose still had some issues to work through, so they grumbled their acquiesce. They were all a little awkward as they stood around, waiting as the TARDIS traveled through the vortex.

"Blimey, Christmas Eve, how many months would we have been gone?" John asked, turning to Sherlock.

"A few, I imagine, if it's Christmas this year." Sherlock said, frowning to himself as he tried to figure it out. "Rose and I did go back for a short while and it was fall or early winter, probably a month or two before Christmas."

"Oh, right, yeah." John said, nodding. "Did you get in touch with anybody?"

"Jackie and Mickey, of course, I talked to Mycroft, and then there was future Jack, but no, aside from them. Didn't see Lestrade, Ms. Hudson, or Molly, didn't have time for that." Sherlock said.

"Well, we should definitely see them all! Have them gather for Christmas dinner or something. What about your parents? Can we meet them?" John asked.

"Absolutely, definitely not." Sherlock insisted.

Suddenly, the Doctor reacted violently, going into a fit as the TARDIS trembled and the Doctor expelled a golden wisp into the air. "That definitely doesn't look good." Sherlock said to himself.

"It must be some aftereffect from the regeneration. I read about something like this in the UNIT reports." John said. "He needs some medical attention as soon as possible."

The Doctor started acting madly then as Sherlock, John, and Rose tried to stop him, but he couldn't be stopped. The Doctor had changed, and they didn't know what they were dealing with—a whole new adventure.

**The End of Series One of _Sherlock, John, and the Doctor._**

* * *

I might post up a link to a sequel and a timeline of potential crossover between the two shows in a little while, depending. Thank you all for sticking with this fic, yay! It's not often I finish these, and I thank you all for the support over the years.

HelenaHermione


	34. Postscript

Again, thank you all for sticking with this fanfic through the years and checking it out. Unfortunately, this website won't let me post the entire link to the sequel Sherlock, John, and the Doctor: Series Two. However, I can post the main ID for it and you can post it after the fanfiction web address (won't even let me type the fanfiction web address!).

s/12026988/1/Sherlock-John-and-The-Doctor-Series-Two

And here is the timeline of events I'm going to use when I try to correspond the two shows in this and future series. I may reference Torchwood, but I'm probably not going to include The Sarah Jane Adventures. This is about as far as I can go so far with Sherlock, but Series 4 will hopefully broaden that spectrum into Series 8, 9, and (cross fingers) 10 of Doctor Who.

**Sherlock, John, and the Doctor Timeline**

A Study In Pink

Series One of Doctor Who

The Christmas Invasion

The Blind Banker

The Rest of Series Two

First half of Torchwood, season one (Might mention)

The Runaway Bride

Second half of Torchwood, season two (Might mention)

The Great Game

First scene of A Scandal in Belgravia

Series Three of Doctor Who

Portion of A Scandal in Belgravia

Voyage of the Damned

Torchwood Season 2 (Might mention)

End of A Scandal in Belgravia

Series Four of Doctor Who

The Hounds of Baskerville

Planet of the Dead

Torchwood: Children of Earth (Would I cover that?)

End of Time Part 1-majority of Part 2

The Reichenbach Fall

Final scenes of End of Time

Series Five

The Empty Hearse

Series Six

Torchwood: Miracle Day (Would I cover that?)

The Sign of Three

Series Seven

Part of His Last Vow

Day of the Doctor

Part of His Last Vow

Time of the Doctor

Doctor Who: Deep Breath

End of His Last Vow/The Abominable Bride

* * *

Again, thanks everyone! I hope you enjoy this and future fan-fics and have a great day!

HelenaHermione


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